A Handful of Spells
by Artemisia Bly
Summary: A hard-of-hearing girl thinks she'll finally fit in at the Salem Witches' Institute. But her spoken spellwork's shaky, and broomwork a challenge. Then she meets Deaf wizards who sign their spells, instead of speaking them ..
1. Chapter 1

**A handful of spells**

by Artemisia Bly

a novel in 7 chapters

Chapter 1 – Discovery

Flick. Flick.

Caitlin Leo was in a foul mood.

The walkway had been nice and smooth when she began, but now bits of gravel popped up through gravel, piling up one upon the other, making the garden walkway look like a family of moles had just moved in.

Flick.

Another finger snap, another stone popped up.

Nini, the family's longhair gray tuxedo cat, watched the stones cautiously from under a nearby bush. Caitlin felt badly for spooking her with these moods, but could she help it if those kids on her bus didn't know how to say things so that a person could understand them? Getting laughed at by a whole busload of students because she'd misunderstood yet again was beginning to get just a bit old.

Flick.

Enough stones on that molehill, on to another. Momma pitched a fit if any soil got rearranged near her prizewinning dahlias or the vegetable patch, so Caitlin had to restrict herself to the walkways. She didn't let her see just _how_ she'd moved those stones – the first and only time she had let people see how she could move things without touching them, their eyes got squinty and dubious, and pretty soon Erin Buckforth and her clique were running around the playground yelling to stay away from "Carrie, weirdo witchy Carrie."

A motion in the sky caught her attention. Hawks throve in the area, drawn by the huge old oaks that grew in this part of central Massachusetts, and she loved to watch them spiraling in the air. But the shape was wrong, and this bird looked on a mission, flying straight across the sky, rather than watching for dinner in lazy circles.

"Blabla blaba Cait, don't forget blablabla the mail" came a voice from behind her. She turned to see her mom silhouetted against the screen door. Half of the words had sounded like mush to her, but Cait didn't need to understand all the words to get the gist; she was very practiced in working out what people were saying when only some of their words were understandable.

"Yes, Momma, I'll go get it" she answered, and she got up to go to the mailbox at the end of their walkway. The comfortable former farmhouse was painted white, with a front gable over the porch, framed by two ancient oaks and a sugar maple that lit up in three shades of red-gold every fall.

She looked up again – the bird was closer now, a redtail hawk -- and it looked like it was heading for her. But whatever it was carrying didn't look like prey. Weird.

She stood and watched as the hawk landed on the mailbox, a rolled-up piece of paper in its claw; it stared and bobbed its head at her.

"Somebody's playing a prank," she told the bird, as it continued to stare and began to click its beak in an annoyed fashion.

"OK, OK. Is that a letter for me, or something?" She carefully reached for the paper, fully expecting the hawk to spook and take off, but it just bobbed its head, ruffled its feathers, and began preening as she read the writing on the outside. Yep, there was her name, all right, in black ink, with the thick-to-thin line of a dip pen, like the crowquill used in her art class. "This thing should be in a museum" she thought as she carefully untied the cord that held the paper rolled up, and began reading.

"The Salem Witches' Institute is pleased to welcome Caitlin Leo to its incoming class of firstyears …" An odd feeling began to grow inside her.

"Transportation has been arranged for all new and returning students; scheduled departure from Boston's Long Wharf will be at exactly high tide on September 9th. Upperclass students only may elect to arrive at BWI via commuter rail from Boston." And at the end of the letter, "We await your immediate reply." The redtail clicked its beak and bobbed its head as if saying: "So write already!"

"Cait, the mail!"

"OK Momma!"

Caitlin stuffed the letter in her pocket and retrieved the mail, reaching under the claws of the fidgety bird, which continued to sit and stare. "Heck of an elaborate hoax," she thought as she handed her mom the mail and grabbed her pen and sketch pad ("Going to practice your drawing? Good day for it Cait."), then bounded back outdoors, and wrote, "I only read stories. I don't go and live in them." Handing the letter to the hawk, who happily flew off with it, she sat back down on the front step to watch it disappear against the clear May sky. _Smart bird, whoever trained you!_ she thought.

She decided to keep the letter to herself for a while. Hoax it may be, but she liked the daydream and didn't want any grownup shooting it down.

The next few days passed uneventfully. On the following Tuesday after school, her mom ran some errands, and Caitlin tagged along so that she could browse the shelves of the local bookstore. This place was her haven: one place where she knew she'd not run into those louts she called her classmates. The books there were always interesting, and sometimes the other customers were interesting, too. And if a conversation should start, no loud background noise drowned it out; the shopkeeper liked to play classical music, at a nice, quiet level. As she scanned the bestseller rack, a person came alongside her, also browsing, caught her eye, and spoke softly, but clearly: "Salem Witches' Institute is not a hoax. Magic is real, and you've got it", then vanished behind the next range of shelves.

A _grownup_ is in on this prank? Sket-chy. Skeevy, skanky, sketchy. _Unless it isn't a prank at all_ – she felt dizzy, as a sense of excitement knocked at the back of her brain. Maybe _it isn't a prank!_ No longer able to concentrate on the books, she battled that thought all the way home, as her mom cast anxious glances toward her unusually quiet daughter.

When she got home, a squirrel – yes, with a letter – waited, flicking its tail at her in the walkway, and nipped at her heels until she bent down and took the little scroll. A prankster wouldn't train a squirrel _and_ a hawk – and this town was too small to hide someone that eccentric. Again, the same old-fashioned ink and the same cord tying it up, and a text which now read: "The Salem Witches' Institute, which is very much a real school, is pleased to welcome Caitlin Leo …" Again that odd feeling, with a bit of nerves thrown in; the pulse pounded in her throat. Real? Or was she just the most gullible dope in Massachusetts?

The squirrel sat and watched, tail twitching, as she deliberated. "You need an answer, too? Well, whatever this is has got to be better than 6th grade with the same jerks who thought I was an idiot since kindergarten. I bet boring is one thing it won't be." She retrieved a sheet of the grown-up fancy stationery she had been given for her birthday, wrote: "To the SWI, I accept, Caitlin Leo, May 2007", handed it to the squirrel, and wondered what would happen next as she went off to finish homework. As she slogged her way through history timelines and long division, she couldn't help but wonder: would she really get to escape those public-school dopes? She pushed her thoughts back into "what-if" territory. Let's see – bubbling cauldrons full of weird things. Eye of newt and toe of frog – eww, she hoped not. Crystal balls and fortune telling, stuff that's in the stars – hey, maybe it would be like astronomy. She liked the six experimental weeks of astronomy her class learned when the school won an experimental grant last year. Oh yeah, there would be broomstick-riding instead of general gym. With her balance, hah. Yeah right, that she'd flunk for sure.

But the school-bus ride home on Thursday clinched it.

She was in the middle of a really good story, about to finish reading an important chapter, when two very unwelcome faces popped up in front of her, Mike Mullin and Jack Stone, their friends sniggering in the background.

"So, you gonna answer Mikey's question?"

"What question?"

"See!" and Jack turned to his buddies in the front of the bus. "Told ya she goes off somewhere else when she's buried in one of these," and he grabbed the book.

"HEY!" But Caitlin wasn't fast enough, the book now flying from hand to hand, everybody laughing, and she only wanted her book back – her fist clenched, and then the bus dipped suddenly on the right-hand front side as if it had struck a pothole.

The bus driver was visibly annoyed as he pulled over. "We've got a flat tire, everyone. Stay put while I fix it, don't go making any trouble." And he glared at the busload of students as he stepped out of the now very quiet bus.

Jack was ready to start making cracks again, but Mike and several of the other students were giving Caitlin odd looks. As she eyed the crescent shapes on the palm of her hand, she got that funny feeling again – did _she_ flatten that tire? Was that Salem school truly for real? After a quick look out the window, she jumped up. "I'm close enough to walk home from here," she told the driver after exiting the still-quiet bus, snatching her book from a girl in the front row as she went.

As she started down the sidewalk, so did the buzz of voices on the bus. "Blablabla find her flying saucer. Blabla beam her up blabla --- haha!"

_So it's real_. It sank into her mind with the rhythm of her feet on pavement. Since she somehow did make that wheel go flat, then magic does exist, and so then, must that school. The dizziness came back, and that peculiar mix of fear and anticipation that had followed her around lately. _It must be real. It's got to be real. It's the only thing that makes everything make sense_.

As she neared the house, it somehow didn't surprise her to see a squirrel (the same that brought the letter?) sitting in the middle of the walkway, watching her approach.

She blinked – there seemed to be a kind of shimmer as she looked at the squirrel, then suddenly a tall man in a gray suit and salt-and-pepper hair was standing in front of her.

"Tom Seekins, Admissions Officer, Salem Witches' Institute. You are Caitlin Leo, I believe," and he held out a hand for her to shake. "I hope to have a word with you before your parents arrive home, when I'll explain the school to them. Do you still believe it to be a hoax?" he asked, but there was a smile in his eyes.

Caitlin dared to ask the only question that happened to be in her brain at the moment, still trying to grasp what she'd seen. "Does the suit match your fur, or is it the other way around?"

He broke into a real smile as he answered. "I can wear anything at all, prefer robes to suits myself, but this happens to be less conspicuous if the glamour wears off while I'm in squirrel mode."

A look of worry crossed her face. "Will I get in trouble for making the bus tire go flat? I didn't mean to, but the other kids were teasing me again, and I just got mad. All I did was make a fist and it went pop."

"No doubt at all that you've got magic." He shook his head a little. "This school will be exactly the place where you'll learn to rein in that kind of energy and make it do what you want it to do. Something I guarantee that everyone will be happier with, you included." Then, as her mom's car pulled up, he asked, "Shall I introduce myself to your family now? We have a lot of ground to cover."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2, part 1: the journey there

Summer flew by and dragged its feet, all at the same time. Sometimes Caitlin couldn't wait – no more Mike and Jack tormenting her, no more being called "Carrie". And then sometimes a chill would grip the pit of her stomach – did she really have as much magic as they thought she did? Kids with wizard families must know a lot already – how would she ever catch up?

Her parents had conceded, of course. Her mother was defensive, her father bemused, as Mr. Seekins explained just what kind of school SWI was and why Caitlin should go there.

Most of the questions came from her mom. "But why does she need to go off to some special school?" (Untrained magic can be a ticking time bomb.) "How are we going to afford tuition?" (Cost of the school is covered by the wizard community, students' families are responsible only for books and apparel.)

Her dad mostly listened with a growing grin. "Miri, don't you remember my Aunt May, who talked to ghosts in that old house in Sherborn? And her cousin Joyce, who got along so suspiciously well with plants, knew every one in the forest, and could spook all the slugs right off the tomatoes? I think there really is something here. Too bad you never believed all my old family stories!" There was now pride in his eyes, as well as bemusement.

And then September 9th suddenly arrived, they were in her dad's ancient Pinto heading east on the Mass Pike, and she was re-reading her latest set of letters from SWI, delivered by eagle this time. Well it was a rather large stack, what with the student handbook (one copy for her, the other for her parents), the list of required textbooks and other supplies to be bought upon arrival in Salem ("If you cannot afford the full amount, please notify the Wizard's Aid Society"), and the details of exactly how to get there ("Please be at Long Wharf in Boston at ½ hour before the high tide on Sept. 9. You must be prompt, as the school schooner _Schoodic_ will not wait for latecomers – even wizards cannot turn tides. Soothe-Sea remedy will be freely available to all those who need it.").

She had agonized for hours over which things to leave behind and which to bring, packing and unpacking several times, as they were limited to only "one suitcase or trunk, plus a book satchel, plus one small familiar – no canids please."

And now they stood on Long Wharf, near a sign that said "SWI charter", surrounded by what seemed to be hundreds of other kids and their assorted family members, all in various stages of excitement and nervousness. That chill in her stomach again – she had never been away from her parents for more than one week of summer camp, and now she was going to be living hours away from them! Caitlin squeezed both her hands and looked up at her dad on her right, her mom on the left. "You're going to be all right, babe, I know you can do it," her mom smiled, but she looked about as nervous as Caitlin felt, and her dad was looking a bit weepy.

Suddenly, a bit of motion in the distance caught her eye – a sail the color of sunset was coming around the granite corner of what used to be a warehouse and was now overpriced apartments, and then another sail, and other …

"A real four-masted schooner," breathed her father, who had grown up on the coast. "Mostly you only see two-masted ones. But no motor noise at all – how do they maneuver like that with so little wind today?"

And now people were hugging and good-byeing and making their way to the end of the dock.

"Firstyears at the green sign on my left, upper classes at the red sign to my right." bawled a short, bright-eyed woman who had just jumped from the boat onto the dock. She was now scurrying among the crowd, directing girls toward two gates where signs suddenly appeared. "You will get to see your families at Halfterm, please line up, tide won't wait."

As she bustled about, so much like a chipmunk, Caitlin wondered if she were like Mr. Seekins – maybe she really was a chipmunk sometimes! And she stifled a giggle. Her parents pulled her into an enormous bearhug; it was time. She picked up her suitcase and headed for the green sign. "Love ya, Momma, Dad, see you in October!"

An auburn-haired girl ahead of her in line seemed to be talking to something in the palm of her hand, pulling her suitcase with the other. When she looked up, Caitlin caught her eye and asked, "Are you a firstyear?"

"Yeah, are you? My toad here really hates being cooped up so I'm trying to talk him into putting up with this cage." The toad's amber eyes gazed at her through the bamboo slats of a cage barely larger than himself.

"He's cute," Caitlin said.

"Nobody outside the magical world ever says that, thanks! His name's Nick. I'm Penny. Can't shake hands right now, though."

Caitlin's eyes flicked to Penny's coppery hair.

"Yeah, my parents have no imagination," replied Penny. "Your name is?"

"Caitlin."

"Your name goes with your hair, too. Looks just like the hairdos they put on the Irish dancers."

"Ugh, I hate those poodle wigs," groaned Caitlin. "These corkscrews are a pain, but my aunts are all in love with 'em. I'd swap in a minute."

"I bet there's a charm for that. We're supposed to learn all sorts of shapeshifting stuff."

"Next!" boomed the voice of a tall woman in crisp robes under the green banner that now read, "Welcome new SWI students!" Her neatly-cut hair was fascinating, a clear white, threaded through with hairs of true, metallic silver, gleaming in the sun.

"Name, please," she said.

"Penny Dingle, daughter of Sophia White and Phil Dingle."

"Welcome to SWI. Your mother was class of, let's see, '86 I believe. She liked it very much, and I hope you will as well. Next!" And Penny's name magically checked itself off on a list sitting on a nearby stand.

Caitlin stepped up. "Caitlin Leo, daughter of Miriam and Donald. No wizards in my family," she volunteered.

"Well, welcome aboard, and welcome to the wizarding world. You are in good company – there are plenty of other students who also come from non-wizarding families. I'm sure you'll find each other. Next!" And Caitlin's name checked itself off.

As they proceeded aboard, Caitlin suddenly felt a little giddy – everybody on this ship must be a witch! And if there were so many people running around with magic, why did everybody back home think she was so strange just for moving a few rocks around? She eyed the women who were supervising boarding, adjusting sails, stowing mysterious boxes and people's luggage, hoping somebody would pull out a wand and perform a spell or two.

"When do we get to see people do spells and stuff?" she asked Penny.

"Not yet – not in muggle eyeshot, anyway, unless there's a really, really good reason. Maybe we'll see something once we're out of harbor."

"Let's stay topside. I want to wave goodbye to my folks."

They passed a sturdy, energetic witch with bright blonde hair who was loudly announcing, "No running on board, no flying, no hexing. We arrive in Salem in fifty minutes. Please keep all familiars safely confined until we arrive at the school."

Nearby, another witch with very short hair quietly and inconspicuously floated pieces of luggage into the ship's hold, murmuring a charm over each one.

"Penny, magic!" Caitlin elbowed her new friend and goggled.

The shorthaired witch smiled at them, her skin nearly ebony in the daylight, and tilted her head at their suitcases. "Yours, too!" With a murmured word, and a small motion of her wand, Caitlin's suitcase, then Penny's, floated through the square hatch in the deck and into the hold.

As they took place at the railing with the other students, the morning light put a pale gold light on the Boston skyline, and Caitlin could barely make out her parents among all the other people gathered at the end of Long Wharf. She thought her dad looked a little jealous – he'd grown up hearing stories of all the four- and five-masted schooners that used to haul cargo up and down the coast, and she wished that he could be aboard, too.

"Penny, where's your family?" asked Caitlin suddenly.

"Back there, to the right," she began in a flat tone. "Do you see the bratty kid trying to climb the flagpole? That's my kid brother Stu." Then she paused. "Heeey. I'm about to get a whole semester without babysitting the twerp. Maybe even all year!" A grin broke out on her face.

The last student finally stepped aboard, the ship untied from the dock, luggage stowed, and now Chipmunk, Loud Voice, and Ebony Skin stood at the wheelhouse. To anybody outside the boat, they appeared to be consulting the chart, but they then raised their wands, said a sort of invocation Caitlin couldn't catch, and a soft wind came up, filled their sails, and they were off, pulling away from the dock. Threading its way among the harbor islands, the ship quickly left the harbor behind. The open sea now stretched out endlessly on their right, as the ship turned north toward Salem. Many of the students began to drift below deck, while others, especially firstyears, continued to gaze around them.

"Violet, look, I have never seen so much water in my whole life, I didn't know the ocean was so big! WOW! I'm so excited!" gushed a plump girl on Caitlin's right.

"So you also grew up landlocked, eh?" said Caitlin. The ocean was not new to her, thanks to many summer visits to her dad's family on the Cape.

"I'm from Fitchburg where we have nothing at all like this" – a sweep of her hand toward the water – "but we do have the Fitchburg Finches, and SWI has got to have a Quiddich team so I can get good at flying and sometime be on their team – our team – and my brother says a girls' school won't have a quiddich team, but he's gonna owe me five Quillers 'cuz I know SWI has GOT to have a team, do you watch quiddich? Oh, I'm Meg, by the way. And this here's my friend Violet, we grew up together."

Caitlin wasn't quite sure how much she understood of all that, let alone whether she had heard it correctly. "Um what's quiddich?"

"Get out!"

"Take it easy on her, she's muggle-born." said Penny. "Quiddich is lots of fun to watch, but kinda hard to explain. You've got four balls doing three kinds of things and 7 people on a team – well, you'll see it soon, anyway. Whoo, it's getting cold up here."

"So go below deck and warm up" suggested a passing older student. "There's snacks for sale, you don't need wizard money yet, they take dollars."

"Yay! Let's eat," said Meg, as she and Violet headed for the nearest stairs, Penny and Caitlin following.

As they arrived below deck, the sound of two hundred babbling voices swamped Caitlin's ears, and when she saw Penny saying something, held up one finger and looked about for a quieter corner. Almost all of this deck consisted of one large, open room, filled with comfortable chairs and a few sofas. Little round tables scooted around, putting themselves wherever it looked like somebody needed a place to put a full glass or a loaded plate of goodies, and a tall box of Soothe-Seas was zipping around presenting itself to anybody who was looking at all green around the gills.

Although a good amount of light filtered in through the portholes and prisms set in the deck above, softly glowing globes hovered overhead, filling in wherever the daylight didn't quite reach.

But there was not a quiet corner in sight, nor any smaller room to retreat to. Caitlin sighed, then bellowed, "Can't hear in here! What'd you say?"

"Food over there!" Penny gestured to a counter beyond the stairs.

They went over to the counter; Caitlin was hoping for some chocolate, peppermint patties maybe, and perhaps a cream soda. But she could not recognize anything in front of her, except for one item. "Aha! I know that red box with the bricks on it!" But she nearly dropped it as soon as she'd picked it up; the "beans" were jumping around inside, she could feel the candies hit the sides of the box.

Penny also looked surprised, then grinned and pointed to the box, which actually read Salem Baked Beans. The price tag was marked "60 cents" – no, wait, it said something else – "2 Blatt"?? – now it was blurry – no, it was the ink moving, breaking apart and moving like little worms and shaping itself again into a shape that read, "60 cents". Caitlin looked at the other boxes and bottles and bundles on the counter – all of them had the same kind of label which wove back and forth between the two prices. Watching those tags made her feel dizzy.

"You pick. What's good here?" she asked Penny. "Then please explain what's up with these indecisive price tags."

"Oh, I'll treat you. Gotta introduce you properly to wizard goodies." And as she began to fill a bag with snacks, Caitlin took Nick, so that Penny would have both hands free, and went to find a pair of empty chairs.

Once they were settled in and sampling the candies, Penny begain to explain the currency, leaning in so Caitlin wouldn't miss too much above the hubbub. "OK, the wizarding world has its own currency. Correction – currencies. Over in England they do this crazy 17 Sickles equals a Galleon thing, but I'm so glad that American wizard money is decimal, like dollars. Smallest is the Blatt, something like a quarter, and 10 Blatt equals 1 Quiller. 10 Quiller makes an Orso, and 10 Orsos equals an Adel. Goes all the way back to colonial days."

"An Adel's gotta be a pretty big amount of money."

"It is. I've never seen an Adel coin, but I'd like to. Gotta be rich, I guess. There're wizard banks where we can swap in our dollars, and we'll probably do that right away when we get to Salem. But it's best to change money at a bank. Never change money outside of a bank – you could get stuck with pixie Orsos, which look real, but tend to turn into a handful of leaves at just about the time you want to spend them."

Then Penny began to explain about Quiddich and all the different kinds of racing brooms. Cait was concentrating so hard on what Penny was saying, that she didn't notice that they were now in harbor, and realized with a start that people were picking up bookbags and familiars and making their way to the stairs.

"Top deck, everyone, we're nearly in dock." Silver Hair swept majestically through the room, robes billowing. "Hello you in the corner, you need to wake up, we're here. Firstyears to the front starboard gate, everyone else to the back starboard gate."

As Penny and Caitlin made their way abovedeck, they didn't see the town they were expecting, only a small island crowned with an assortment of maples and oaks, a sandy beach at its foot. Picnic blankets in all colors were already arranged on the beach; a flotilla of canoes, kayaks, and rowboats waited nearby. The older students were already filing down the ramp to the dock, as Loud Voice handed them tickets. "Please be at the House of Seven Gables by 4:00 – I don't want to round up any stragglers like I had to last year. There will be plenty of time to exchange your money and get your books after you eat lunch."

Caitlin hoped there'd be plenty of food left for the underclass students. She and Penny made their way to the bow of the ship, where Silver Hair calmly surveyed the proceedings.

"I do believe everyone's here now," she said. "Welcome firstyears. I am Mirtha Greatwood, deputy headmistress of Salem Witches' Institute. We will very shortly be joining the other students at lunch, and then afterwards we will take you on a tour of Salem, and show you where everything is. First and most importantly – you will hear this again from the other teachers – remember that whenever we are not on school property, we must Hide in Plain Sight. Very important skill. Some schools have the luxury of having entire castles at their disposal, in remote locations, surrounded by undeveloped acreage. We do not. And the Council of Witches gets very upset with us if they have to send somebody around to modify muggle memories every time a student gets careless or carried away. Showing off in front of the tourists who come to see the "witch city" is very tempting – don't do it. Right now, we have this beach to ourselves, so you can relax at the moment. So, enjoy yourselves, and be back at the dock in one hour."

With that, the firstyears trooped off the schooner.

At the foot of the stairs leading from dock to beach, Chipmunk and Ebony Skin were handing out white boxes of heavy paper.

"Anything which should not be in your lunch?" asked Chipmunk of Caitlin, as Ebony gave Penny her box.

"I eat just about everything," said Caitlin. "Um, it would be nice if there's no Swiss cheese, though."

Chipmunk smiled, concentrated for a moment, passed her wand over the box she held, and handed it to Caitlin, eyes twinkling. "Have a good lunch."

Once Caitlin and Penny settled onto a green and purple blanket and picked up their lunchboxes, other students seemed to keep throwing glances their way – were they grinning? What was going on?

But, she decided to concentrate on her lunch, carefully opening up the box.

Just a simple sandwich lay inside, some fruit, a cookie – and as Caitlin smoothed out the folds in the paper to flatten it, she felt it ripple under her fingers and it suddenly became china she felt, not paper. A real plate! What happened to the paper?

As her jaw dropped, a nearby student remarked, "Eating off paper would be pretty boring, don't you think?"

Halfway through her sandwich, Caitlin realized that there was something missing – no sound of clattering china obliterating the conversation, usually the worst part of a shared meal like this. She looked around. The older students must be finished eating by now – where were the plates going? At the next blanket over, one girl put down her empty plate with a sigh. Then it began to shrink, crumpling in on itself, and became – a leaf? A light breeze picked it up, and sent it skimming over the sand. The same thing was happening all over the beach, as upperclass girls finished eating and began to make their way over to the boats. In groups of threes and fours, they began to row and paddle out from the beach, heading away from the ship, and disappearing around the other side of the island.

"Boy, do I want to take a stack of those dishes home with me! I hate always washing dishes at home," mused Caitlin. "I wonder if we'll learn how to make leaves turn into dishes and back?"

"Dunno, but I bet we will," said Penny.

"Actually, you have to be a pretty advanced student for the spell to last for any useful amount of time," volunteered the nearby older student; "so better not serve up hot soup on your first try, ouch!"

"So, how many classes do we get? And what are they all in?" asked Penny.

The questions continued as they all enjoyed the sand and the sun and the sparkling waves, but before Penny and Caitlin had asked half of what they wanted to know, Deputy Headmistress Greatwood was signaling them back to the dock.

It was now time to go to Salem itself.

Chapter 2, part 2: In Salem

Once all the firstyears were assembled, Greatwood said, "Shall we proceed? Follow me," as she swept along a path that wove its way through the trees near the end of the dock. After a short walk, they arrived at a road, where a bright yellow trolleybus with filigreed windows awaited them; their luggage was already piled atop the bus, confined by an iron-filigree rack.

"All aboard, please – there is a lot to do before you arrive at the school," said Greatwood. Once everyone was aboard and the bus ride began, it became clear that they weren't really on an island after all, as the road became a causeway with water on both sides. Then the causeway ended and they reached the mainland, but the road still hugged the water on the left.

"Allow me to give you a bit of history about Salem Witches' Institute, the oldest witchcraft school in the US," began Greatwood.

"BO-RING, history," groaned Penny quietly to Caitlin.

Greatwood continued, "The Salem Witches' Institute was founded in the year 1705 by the Greater Boston Council of Witches, the same one that monitors magical and nonmagical interactions today. I am sure that your hometown schools have taught you about the unfortunate events of 1692 and 1693, that is, the Salem Witch Trials. The tragedy is that not one of the poor souls which perished in those trials actually was a witch – but for all the Council knew, those overzealous Puritans might just succeed next time; witches and wizards were in real danger. As a matter of fact, even now, there is still danger from those of certain muggle political persuasions, hence our need to Hide in Plain Sight. But back to our history. There was also the frightening prospect of untrained young witches running about with their powers uncontrolled. Why were so many young people untrained? At the time, only the most wealthy wizarding families could send their children off to England to be educated. Therefore SWI was founded, and since it was meant to provide schooling to _all_ girls of magical ability, regardless of their family means or lack thereof, scholarships for students in need have also been an important part of SWI from its very beginning. Not only does SWI serve as a school, but also as a community center, and if there is ever the need, it serves as an emergency shelter for the local magical community. Let's hope there is never the need." She paused, and a few students stifled yawns.

Greatwood now glanced out the window. "Attention to your right, everyone."

Caitlin came to attention as the busload of students around her all shifted in order to look out the windows; long speeches tended to make her drift off, and the competing road noise didn't help. The window showed only a plain wooden building painted pale-blue, with a sign reading "The Peppermill;" it was apparently the point of interest.

"This building – besides being a place to buy excellent fudge, do not use up all your book money there – is important for you to remember. Why? Because that place exactly opposite" – she pointed at the left side of the bus, and forty-two heads swiveled to look – "is called the House of Seven Gables, and if you are downtown in Salem and need to get to the school quickly, that is where you can do so. There is a secret staircase, and once all of you are equipped with wands, you'll learn how it works. Always done out of the sight of muggles, naturally. Now, painful administrative tasks are demanding my attention, and so I must leave you here. Until we meet at the school, you will be in the capable hands of Lucia Corwin, our Spellwork teacher." Chipmunk -- that is, Ms. Corwin -- stood up as Greatwood disembarked the bus and set off in the direction of an ancient-looking wooden house, large and brown, with a very peaked roof.

As the bus took off again, Ms. Corwin asked: "Now, how many of you need to change money before we go get wands and books?" About three-fourths of the bus put up their hands.

"The Salem Wizard Bank's near the shops that you'll need today to get your wands, robes, quills, and such. There are other wizard shops in town, but you'll learn later how to find them – they're scattered throughout the town. Fact of life in a town shared by muggles."

Penny put up her hand. "Um, you said wizard, not witch. Where do the boys study, who've got magical ability?"

Everybody perked up to listen now. Ms. Corwin suppressed a smile, then shot a look of warning. "There is a school for wizards on Winter Island, called Boys' Wizarding Institute of Salem, BWIS; the muggles think it's a DSS asylum. School founders saw fit to educate boys and girls separately, when the first local boys of magical ability showed up a year after our school was established. So, no sneaking back and forth will be allowed – you _will_ be found out. And at any rate, you'll have plenty of chances to see the boys during school events such as Halfterm. Now, attention around you, please. Marketplace is coming up on the right, and the Old Town Hall. That's where the bank is; we get off there."

They passed a couple of blocks of assorted cafes and shops, and then a brick plaza opened up on their right, surrounded by old-fashioned two- and three-story brick buildings. A two-story brick building with tall multipaned windows stood in solitary splendor in the exact center of the plaza.

"Here we are, after me," announced Ms. Corwin, and the students all trooped off the bus and followed the teacher to the building.

Corwin gave a conspiratorial wink. "For the moment, we're an art-class trip, studying the architecture of this town hall. As soon as I raise my wand, immediately follow me. _Immediately_." She raised her voice. "Who can tell me some of the qualities of Federal-era buildings? Nobody? Well, note the simplicity of façade…"

After about five minutes of admiring the windows and triple staircases, the wand-wave caught Caitlin's eye. Ms. Corwin rapped smartly on the uppermost corner of the left side of the center staircase, just under the top step, and the staircase began to stretch and belly out, as if some creature were waking up underneath it. Suddenly a doorway appeared where blank stone had been a moment before.

"Hurry, hurry," said Ms. Corwin, waving them into the doorway as she kept an eye on the plaza, then followed them in.

A staircase led down below street level, lit by a set of the same glowing globes that had illuminated the ship. As they went down the steps, the globes accompanied them, floating a little bit ahead of them to light their way. When the stairs ended in a bright marble lobby, the glow-globes floated back up the stairs to await the next customer/s.

A very tall, very old-fashioned wooden desk stood at the end of the lobby. _Looks a couple of centuries old_, thought Caitlin. Then it occurred to her that it probably _was_ really that old. When did Greatwood say the school was founded? 1705?

Then there was the man behind the desk, a spare and sharp-eyed wizard in full black robes and a matching tall hat. He looked older than old. He made her grandmother look young. As they approached, he stated, "Another new class of witches for our town, Ms. Corwin? So good to see the youngsters."

Caitlin couldn't imagine how many incoming classes he must have welcomed to Salem, but decided to not even try to do the math.

"I expect that some of you are in need of wizard money," he continued. "If you would, please form a line to my right," and he swept his wand in that direction; a window with an old-fashioned grille in front appeared in the wall behind him, and a young wizard hastily stepped in place behind it.

"Who needs to make withdrawals?" asked the ancient wizard. About six hands went up. Another sweep of the wand, and another doorway appeared, with a young witch stepping into place there. Behind her appeared a large brick cylinder, with row upon row of small doors in it. As the first girl stepped up and gave her name and information, the cylinder revolved around about halfway, sank two levels, and a door opened itself in front of the girl, right at her shoulder level, so that she could easily reach in and take out what she needed. Caitlin tore her gaze away from the spinning column so that she could remember how many Orsos she was supposed to change her dollars into, besides the two Adel that were allowed for book-buying, courtesy of the Wizards Aid Society. They had given her a chit to cash at the bank, but she hated to have to hand in that piece of parchment, with its fancy calligraphy in purple ink and gold ornamentation. _Well, at least Penny would get to see what an Adel looks like!_ she thought. She hoped that there would be enough left over for something else once she had bought robes, wand, and stationery. Oh, better leave a few American dollars in her pocket as well, so that she could find out about that fudge.

"How much do you have to buy?" Caitlin asked Penny.

"Not a lot," she answered. "I already have my robes – my mom's good with sewing, and she made sure I won't have to buy any. And I've inherited my grandmother's wand. She wanted me to have it, and it's lucky that it works well with me. But I'd rather have my grandmother back."

As Penny's eyes reddened, Caitlin returned her gaze to the brick column, but gave her a hand-squeeze in sympathy.

"Sorry to hear that." Caitlin said. Penny nodded.

The line seemed to take forever – a few students had already brought wizard money with them from home, and they chatted in the marble lobby while everyone else stood in line. Finally, Caitlin stepped away from the counter with the two Adel for the bookstore, one Adel for the robemaker, and assorted Orsos and Quillers. The pale-gold Orsos and silver Quillers looked disappointingly like regular coins, except that she had never seen a porcupine on a coin before – but the Adel!

"Hey Penny, have a look at an Adel!" Caitlin announced, and they admired the bright golden coin together, with its crystal inlay, containing the carving of a tiny eagle.

"To the bookstore!" called out Ms. Corwin, raising her wand, and causing a glow-globe to float over to a painted sign which hung from the roof of the left side of the lobby; it read, "To Margin Alley." The ancient clerk smiled, seemed to consult something on his desk, and said, "Best of luck to all of you, and welcome to Salem!"

A tunnel was now visible – no, it seemed to be more of a street – and they all followed Ms. Corwin's lively step into it. Now they could see shopfronts here and there, and other shoppers, both witches and wizards, strolling about in various cuts and colors of robes and hats.

"Ooh, hey look – boys! Over there! Oh, that one's cute!" babbled Meg from behind Caitlin.

Near the end of the underground street, Ms. Corwin stopped and whirled about to face the students. "Here's the bookstore where all of the SWI textbooks will be stocked throughout your time at the school. Go to the counter at the back and tell them your name – they've set aside a set of the required firstyear texts for each of you, and they'll tell you how to get to the robemaker and the wandmaker. Have fun browsing the other shops – but be sure to meet me right back here at 4:00."

With that, she gestured at a sundial that hung from the ceiling. A sundial underground? What sense did that make? Nevertheless, Caitlin could plainly see on it the usual pattern of light and shade that would be on an outdoor sundial on a clear day, with the shadow pointing exactly at II.

As she walked into the bookstore, Caitlin was pleased, in the midst of all this strange newness, to note how comfortingly familiar it felt – very much like the favorite second-hand bookstore she liked to visit back home when she felt like looking for old books. The volumes lining the walls of this shop were of all shapes, sizes, and colors; most of them were new, but some of them appeared truly ancient. The smell was right, too: paper, leather, a slight bit of mold from the older books. She wanted to begin browsing immediately, although she didn't understand a lot of the titles and didn't even recognize some of the alphabets, but instead made herself go right to the back of the store – there would be no time left over for buying anything else if she began browsing now.

She hurried past the stacks and shelves of all those books in their various languages; a soft, rustling, breathy sound met her ears, which seemed comprised of many voices, but were not those of the chattering customers around her. Were the books themselves whispering? She leaned towards a table which held an elegantly-bound red leather volume; yup, a soft voice cajoled her.

"Four hundred and thirty-one ways to flummox whoever is sending bad charms against you, no permanent harm to the spellcaster, only one Adel and three Orso, and you can take me home to make your life easier –" Caitlin hastily – but oh, so carefully -- put the book back on its table; she had barely been aware of picking it up, but on the other hand, had never in her whole life handled such an expensive volume. As a matter of fact, since when did $200 books simply sit out on tables for people to handle? What kind of security _did_ they have in this shop? She had no desire to find out what wizards did to perceived shoplifters.

Again, she headed to the back counter, ignoring everything else along the way. Fortunately, the textbook line wasn't as long as she'd feared. A bored-looking wizard fetched her stack of books, tied up with a red cord, and Caitlin handed over the 1 Adel, 2 Orso due with a sense of relief, glad that they didn't cost the full 2 Adel that had been allotted to her by Wizards' Aid.

As she tugged one of the books out of the stack to have a better look at it –

"Thief! Thie—" rang out a clear voice, as the red-faced clerk tapped the cord around the books. The voice stopped abruptly, and the cord turned green.

"So sorry about that, they're truly all yours now," said the clerk.

Caitlin picked up her books, moved aside to let the next firstyear pick up hers, and slid the smallest book towards her. It was a solidly-bound hardcover titled _Elementary Spellcraft_. About an inch thick, it sat comfortably in her hand. _I bet this would fit really well in a pocket_, thought Caitlin. The Astronologia book, in contrast, was big and bulky, its deep-blue cover ornamented with silver spangles, which rearranged themselves into new patterns every time her gaze drifted away from the design. There was a book on Alchemy, nearly the size and shape of the Spellcraft book, only with a differently-colored cover. The next book was _Greenwitchery for Greenhorn Witches_, on the large side, but of a very lightweight paper, with the smell of a sunlit meadow coming from its pages. _Zoomorphia for Beginners_, on the other hand, didn't smell anywhere near as pleasant – somewhere between unwashed dog and low tide. _Wonder what Nini would make of that one?_ thought Caitlin, and suddenly hoped she wouldn't miss the cat too badly during her time at SWI. The last book was _Mindcasting: Knowing the Vibes Around You_, which was plainly bound, in an understated-but-elegant sort of way.

As she stuffed the last book into her bulging bookbag, Penny showed up with an overloaded shopping bag.

"Oof, I can't wait 'till we learn to put flying charms on things so my muscles don't hafta lug stuff like this," she puffed, as she took her place in the textbook line. "Be glad your parents don't send you off to school with their magical-book shopping list. I know I'm gonna be stuck in some hideous line at the Broomcourier while you're picking out your new robes – don't forget to get at least one heavy lined wool robe, by the way. Antique buildings are _cold_ in the winter."

"You're telling me? Our house is sooo drafty all winter long. But what's Broomcourier?"

"Oh yeah, I forget you're new to all this. Well, sending magical books through muggle mail doesn't work too well – the talking ones kinda set off security and things and it gets complicated. So, if you need to get magical things shipped to people, Broomcourier will do it – they're down the hall that way" – Penny turned around and pointed to her left – "and two doors over."

Once Penny had her books, the two girls headed out the door, Penny showing Caitlin where the robemaker's shop was.

"I'll find you at the wandmaker's – they're right next door!" she called out as she plodded her way to Broomcourier's, Nick perched majestically atop the smaller bag with her texts.

The robemaker's proved a relatively quick and uneventful errand, although it was rather fun watching the bolts of fabric snake themselves off from and back onto their racks, so that Caitlin could see and feel each fabric before choosing which ones to turn into robes.

As she was being measured, a small motion caught her eye – the dressmaker's manikin nearby was shifting with the robemaker's motions. As she measured Caitlin's height, the manikin stretched taller; as the measuring tape went around her middle, the manikin shrank in accordingly, and once the measurements were complete, Caitlin's name appeared on the manikin in black letters, and it vanished into the back of the store. _Boy, would my mom's sewing buddies give their eyeteeth to have that manikin!_ goggled Caitlin.

Thanks to the Orsos left over from bookbuying, her dress robe got to be a little fancier than it would otherwise have been – real silk in the required black, lined with purple, and with gold piping in the edges -- and a couple of extra inches in the hemline "in case she wasn't quite finished growing," insisted the robemaker. She bought two everyday robes as well (they were readymade, so she could take them with her now), a warm cloak, and the woolen robe that Penny had recommended.

Next, the wandshop.

As Caitlin entered the shop, the first thing she saw was the cluster of firstyears gathered around a table in the center of the room. _I can't believe nobody's looking at all this other stuff!_ she thought, as she glanced around the rest of the shop, which held an assortment of wands, crystals, and gemstones on little shelves mounted on the shop walls and in beautiful glass display cases, as well as staffs of all kinds and materials, leaning against the walls of the shop, under the shelves. There were some brooms as well; she wondered if any of them were the kind that people used for racing and competitions. Moving closer to the table, she could see about about a hundred wands arranged on it, all made of plain wood, of various colors, sizes and finishes.

A redheaded, bearded wizard watched each student attentively as she picked up and put down wand after wand. Then one person would suddenly gasp – a glow would appear around the wand in her hand, and the wandmaker would step over to her, offer congratulations, tell her about that particular wand, and settle the purchase.

Caitlin took her place at the table, and simply admired it all for a few minutes. Her grandfather liked to whittle, and he had taught her about different kinds of wood. But looking at this tableful, she had no idea that there were quite so many varieties! They ranged from the palest of blond pine, to the deeper-toned rosewood, and an unbelievably dark mahogany. Then she picked up a particularly pretty one – oak, maybe? – and waved it around a bit; what _was_ she supposed to be looking for, anyways? It felt nice in her hand, but so did the plain holly that she picked up next, and the ornately-carved basswood one after that. Then she picked up one whose wood she didn't recognize – "Oh!" An electric charge seem to flow down her arm, to the wand, back up her arm and to her head, now in all three places at once –

The redhaired man was now smiling beside her. "That wand very clearly belongs to you now!" he said. Caitlin had no idea what to say to that, but just stood there, wand in hand, watching the halo of light surrounding it begin to dim.

He continued, "That particular wand is one of a kind – native chestnut, a very difficult wood to obtain, due to the blight which wiped out so many of these lovely trees so long ago. Occasionally, I am lucky enough to be in the right place in the right time when a chestnut needs pruning of the right kind of branches. Although the cost is four Orsos, you will not be disappointed. Every one of these wands is handcarved in this shop, cleared of all jinxes that may have landed in the tree, and is installed with a basic set of antihex protections."

As she finished paying for the wand, Penny came in. "Oh, your wand's found you already! Let's see!" and Caitlin enjoyed opening up the fabric-lined box to show it to her.

Then off to the stationer's to get paper, parchment, and quills ("Ignore the snobs buying their own cauldrons, my mom says the school cauldrons are just fine, and she should know – everybody at home swears by her curative teas!" advised Penny), and after that, there was just enough time to buy a snack at a nearby stand – mooncakes and cider – and the sundial stood at 4:00, with all of the firstyears under it.

"Well done, firstyears, well done, no latecomers at all!" said Ms. Corwin, as she confirmed that all forty-two of them were there. "Now, follow me up these stairs, and when we go out the door, board the bus directly." She led the way up a wooden flight of stairs at the very end of the underground street. As before, glow-globes floated overhead.

At the top of the stairs, she held her wand against what looked like a plain wall for a few moments, apparently waiting for something.

Then, a wooden door appeared. "Together everybody, now." She ushered them through the door into a small foyer with a interesting-looking shop on the left, and a staircase to the street directly in front of them. They appeared to be in a very old house with well-worn floorboards and narrow halls.

"Move, move, do not get distracted please," said Ms. Corwin, and they all piled aboard the bus. Caitlin looked back at the shop front from her bus seat. "Crowhame," read the shop sign.

Once everyone was aboard, Ms. Corwin announced, "Please remember this shop. That is the nearest entry to the bookstore, bank, and Broomcourier from our school. Just direct your wand at the exact center of the wall opposite the front door, and if there are no muggles present, the door will appear, and you can proceed to the shops. Now, off to the school at last!" She sat down, and the bus started off.

Chapter 2 Part 3: The Institute

The bus wove around the ordinary traffic of Salem in a way Caitlin couldn't quite figure, smoothly going around corners and along busy streets, without seeming to encounter red lights or unpredictable drivers.

Then they emerged onto a small shady street, full of old trees and very old-looking houses of wood and brick. Another couple of turns, then the bus stopped.

"We are here!" announced Ms. Corwin. A collective groan went up as everyone looked out the window.

"A _Catholic_ school? No way I'm going back to one of those!"

"It can't be. Maybe it's got a disguising spell on it."

"My parents'll croak. I'm Jewish!"

Ms. Corwin stood still for a moment, listening to the babble with a look of amusement, then raised her hands for attention. As the dismayed chatter died down, she said, "Actually, our school is on the other side of the street."

Everyone turned to look out the other side of the bus – not much to see, only two ordinary wooden houses. Between them stood a pair of shoulder-height red-brick pillars topped with flat stone slabs; a path between them led to a yard behind the house on the right.

At everybody's looks of puzzlement, Ms. Corwin gave no answer, but simply motioned for them all to follow her off the bus. Once they were gathered around the brick pillars, she announced, "Here we finally are, at the end of today's travels. I give you SWI!" And with that, she touched her wand to the center of the stone atop the left-hand pillar and pronounced a strange-sounding word. "P'to'akh!"

A broad and grassy path suddenly appeared to the left of the pillar, and an ancient-looking wooden house with diamond-paned windows stood at its end. Beyond it, they could see bits and pieces of other buildings; one of them appeared to be topped with a giant glass globe.

"Onward!" cried Ms. Corwin, and they all followed her to the front door of the old house where Greatwood stood awaiting them.

"Welcome to SWI, firstyears; you are looking at the building in which the very first witches formally studied magic in North America. It has been a long day, and you are doubtless quite tired. You will now have a chance to settle into your dorm, put away your muggle clothes, rest up, and be ready for the term-begin banquet at 7:00 tonight. Please wear your ordinary robes. I look forward to seeing all of you then. Welcome!" And she swept her arm in the direction of the hallway, which went through the whole of the house, and opened onto the rest of the school. From the back door of the house, a large two-story yellow-brick building full of large-multipaned windows on its second floor stood before them, something like the Town Hall above Margin Alley, but much larger – and the Town Hall did not have the first-floor archway through which they now walked. Now they stood in a courtyard covered with some plush little groundcover Caitlin didn't recognize. A pair of long wooden two-story buildings stretched to each side of the courtyard, and at the end of it stood a solid-looking stone building, with a beautiful sheer-glass front, which contrasted with all the other antique-looking buildings, and which had a greenhouse on its roof.

"Your dorm's to the right, everyone, Partridge Hall," announced Ms. Corwin. "It's named for Willa Partridge, the Council member who had the idea to found our school, and was stubborn enough to get the other Council members to agree. Now, if any of you need to send a message to your families, please note that the school rookery is on the roof of this dorm. The library is that glass-fronted building straight ahead, and that is also where you'll find your classrooms tomorrow morning. We have just walked under the Great Hall; that is where the term-begin banquet will take place; you will hear a bell when it is time to gather. Meet me in front of the dorm then." And she strode off, back towards the original school building, leaving the firstyears at the dorm door.

How were they supposed to find their rooms? Caitlin looked at Penny, who shrugged her shoulders: she didn't know either. But since the door already stood ajar, all the students entered as a group. There was a bright sitting room with pine paneling, comfy seats, a fireplace, and on each side of it, hallways stretching to the right and to the left, as well as a pair of staircases leading to the second floor.

A tawny dog lay apparently napping in front of the fireplace, but raised her head suddenly, and turned to look at the students. Then she went up to the nearest firstyear, who clutched her cat-carrier more tightly, although neither cat nor dog seemed perturbed by the other's presence, sniffed the girl's palm, looked up slightly, and did a retriever-dog point toward the left-hand hallway.

"Guess I'm second-floor then," said the girl, and left.

One student at a time, and sometimes two by two, when two friends were already together, the process repeated itself, until Caitlin and Penny were both pointed to the first floor, right-hand hallway. As they started down the hall, a well-dressed girl with magenta fur trim on her robe and a superior air strode the opposite way, checking the trim as she went.

"Excuse us," said Penny, "but how do we find which rooms are ours?"

"Read the door, of course," said the girl dismissively, as she rushed off towards two other fur-trimmed girls who were giggling and gossiping in one corner of the sitting room.

"Hope she's not our neighbor," said Caitlin.

"It must be hidden writing!" said Penny, looking pleased to explain another magical detail to Caitlin. "We'll probably be the only ones who can see it, because we're the only ones who really need to see it. Look for a light – I see something down that way." As they walked toward the pale glow, it became words on a door: "Caitlin Leo" and "Penny Dingle."

"Good, we don't have to worry that we'll hate our roommates. My mom had terrible roommate stories." She pushed the door open to a very plain room which had on each side of it a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a small table, all of plain pine; Penny parked Nick on the lefthand small table.

"Hey, I could still snore, or sleepwalk, or be a closet thief; we might still hate each other!" said Caitlin.

"Nah – I'd know it if you were someone like that purple-trim girl," Penny said, jerking her head at the hallway and pulling a face. "I'm good at sussing out people, have to be. Poor Nicky needs some water, so I'm gonna go find some."

"All I wanna do is sleep," said Caitlin, "my brain is gonna burst if I try to learn one more thing today." She curled up on the righthand bed, but then sprang up again. "Hey, my bag's here! How'd they know where to bring it?"

"Cait, we're in a _magic_ school, remember? Go sleep. Oh, is it OK if I call you Cait?"

"Mmmf, sure."

And Cait wasn't aware of anything else, until Penny was shaking her awake, and there was a bell ringing from somewhere outside.

"C'mon, we gotta get robed already and get to dinner, wake up!"

"Okay, 'K." she muttered as she looped her bright-red hearing aids back behind her ears, and groaned at the wrinked state of her new ordinary robes, still in the wrapped bundle the robemaker had handed her.

"Nah, you're okay, it looks more like fold lines than wrinkles," stated Penny, who had remembered to unpack her clothes into her wardrobe.

As they joined the other firstyears at the dorm door, a tall, sandy-haired blonde witch joined them.

"Welcome to SWI, firstyears. I am Elsa Prost, house mother for Partridge Hall. You seem to have all found your rooms and settled in all right?" Head nods all around. "Good. The term-begin banquet is about to begin, and it's time that you meet the rest of the school." She led the group toward the Great Hall, the blue lining in her robe flashing in the light of what seemed to be a million hovering fireflies, which arranged themselves to form a path from dorm to Great Hall. As they got closer, they could see a group of about 40 girls waiting for them on the landing at the top of a sweeping double staircase which led to the second floor. Mirtha Greatwood stood with them, resplendent in dress robes and tall hat shot through with silver.

"Aha, now that our firstyears are safely here," announced Greatwood, "shall we find out who your Little Sisters are? Firstyears, you will have a lot to learn during the next few days, and your new Big Sisters" – she waved at the secondyears – "will be there to help you along. Wands out, please! And remember that it is the _wand_-impression doing the choosing, not your eye-impression." Some of the secondyears were looking sulky at that. "So, eyes closed, and no cheating; I will be watching for that. One at a time, alphabetical by last name, Ruthann Appelbaum, please begin!"

A slight girl with brown hair stepped forward, faced the group, and drew her wand. She swept it in a slow arc before her, from left to right, until a freckled girl startled, a look in her eyes something like recognition.

"Abigail Zunz, I believe? A to Z last names, who could have predicted? You two can proceed into the hall. It looks like Ruthann's friends have saved places for both of you. Next – Lori Aspen!"

Four names later, Caitlin began counting fireflies out of boredom as the voice went on, when she felt a friendly tap right in the center of her chest as if somebody were playing tag – but nobody had touched her. She looked up to meet the gaze of a pair of green eyes belonging to a black-haired girl with skin the color of cinnamon.

"Caitlin Leo. Please proceed to the Hall, and enjoy the banquet!"

The Great Hall was a large, brightly-lit space, the high ceiling crossed by exposed roof beams, with gilded panels between the dark timbers. Paper lanterns hovered throughout the hall, the colors of fall leaves: flaming maples, golden aspen, paler birch, dull oak. There was the hum of chatter; almost all of the school was now in the hall, gathered around clusters of smaller tables, while more of the firefly lights twinkled here and there among the paper lanterns.

Opposite the grand entrance they came in by, the faculty sat at a long table, all wearing full formal wizarding regalia. Cait recognized Ms. Corwin in black-on-black, velvet and satin playing off each other, black feathers ornamenting her small cap. In contrast, Ebony Skin wore robes of flame orange with red and yellow, topped by an orange and gold turban. In the very center of the table, sat a tiny, elderly witch who appeared quite firmly in charge of the whole thing, although it hardly seemed that she was actually doing anything at all, but casting the occasional word this way, or the occasional glance that way. Her robes were the most elaborate of all, black and red, embroidered with gold, with matching feathers in her tall, pointed hat.

The first- and secondyears had their own table not far from the faculty, where Caitlin's Big Sister now ushered her. A lively conversation among the secondyears was underway. Cait tipped the empty chair on her other side against the table and waited for Penny to show up with her own Big Sister, which she did two minutes later.

Once everyone was seated, Greatwood surveyed the crowd, stepped up to her own place at the faculty table next to the tiny woman in charge, and then announced, "Welcome, students of SWI! And welcome to the new school year! Do I hear the outgoing seniors of the class of 2008?"

An enormous cheer went up from a group of tables in the back, whose students were dressed nearly as impressively as the teachers.

"2009!" Another deafening cheer.

"2010!" More cheers, and likewise for "2011!"

"Our nearly-Hedge-certified thirdyears!" The table next to Caitlin and her classmates erupted in cheers and clapping.

"The returning secondyears!" Now it was her table's turn.

"Finally – firstyears please rise – I present to you our newest SWI students, please welcome our firstyears to the Salem Witches' Institute!" and everybody was cheering for them now. When would they ever get to eat? Caitlin wondered.

But there wasn't long to wait. Greatwood sat down, and dishes of all kinds floated their way through a small door to the left of the faculty table. An enormous platter with a whole roasted pig led the way, followed by a flock of roasted chickens on their own individual platters, all parading in a grand sweep around the Hall. The pig headed to the faculty table, the chickens to all the student tables. As she helped herself to a drumstick, Caitlin was relieved to see the pig roast beginning to make the circuit of the rest of the room, once the faculty members had all helped themselves.

She forgot all about the pig roast, however, once the fish course swam in -- a school of whole roasted salmon on silver platters, Caitlin wasn't sure how many, floated around the Hall, then broke up to head to the different tables, with separate schools of smaller fish on their own platters, mackerel, sole, and haddock. Side dishes of squash, potatoes, new corn, and all kinds of cooked greens followed. Once the eating slowed down, individual plates of salad came out for each diner, and the empty plates and platters took themselves off toward another door to the right of the faculty table.

During the entire meal, jugs of fizzy cider hovered at each table, plus bottles of wine at the seniors' and faculty tables, which zoomed off when empty, and quickly returned refilled. Conversation hummed all around Caitlin. Her Big Sister spent most of her time gabbing with the secondyears; every so often she'd turn to Caitlin as if she'd forgotten something, but Cait would just point to her ear and shrug. Too much noise! She did have a lot of questions to ask, but right now it was too much of a struggle to decipher conversation, and anyway, it was so much fun to watch all the pots and bottles zoom around the room, dancing adroitly around each other in the busier areas. Next to her, Penny kept trying to summon one of the wine bottles to their own table, with no success. Plenty of wine bottles seemed especially to hover around one particular red-robed teacher deep in conversation with Ebony, as well as a rather rowdy group of seniors in a rear corner of the Hall.

She did envy the people who were so easily chattering away, and hoped that she could learn some spell that could sort out the noise so that she, too, could chatter away with them.

Once salads were finished, and people were relaxing with their cider or their wine, the tiny, ancient witch in the red, black, and gold robes arose from her place, and the entire room fell silent. Despite this, Caitlin could make out very little of her low-voiced speech, except that her first name was Penthesilia, and that she had been headmistress of SWI for about as long as Caitlin's parents had been alive. But the words of the speech didn't seem to matter -- with or without words, there was a heavy aura of power about her which commanded instant respect.

Then dessert came out, complete with silver coffee and tea pots pouring themselves as people wished, and diners began to drift out the Hall and down the double staircase to the courtyard, and off to their respective dorms, apartments, and houses. As soon as Caitlin, Penny, and their new Big Sisters were outside, Cait could easily understand what people were saying again.

"Um, what's your name, by the way?" began Caitlin. "There was all the noise in the Hall and I never got it. And don't all those flying dishes ever crash up with each other?"

The green-eyed girl grinned. "I'm Luatha. And yeah – there was this collision of a soup tureen and this big old wine bottle during last year's term-end banquet. Poor Ms. Broadleaf looked like she was about to cry – she's the Greenwitchery teacher, and she's in charge of the wine. And Ms.Greatwood looked about ready to throttle someone. But four of the upperclass students stepped right up to clean up – sent it by wand to the nearest front-yard tree, I suspect – and you should have seen Ms. Corwin crack up, though she stopped real fast when Greatwood gave her this dirty look."

"I hope classes don't begin to early in the morning, I could sleep for a week," yawned Penny.

"If you're lucky, you'll be scheduled for evening classes tomorrow; half the firstyears have the evening classes on Wednesday and Thursday, everybody else on Monday-Tuesday. You'll get your schedule tomorrow morning. Not too early, don't worry."

"What if I oversleep?" worried Cait. "I kind of sleep through things."

"She's right," added Penny. "She tried to sleep right through the banquet bell, but I wouldn't let her."

"Oh, they'll get you up on time, don't worry," said Luatha, as they neared their dorm door.

"Aw, the cute little chicks are toddling home!" teased a passing upperclass student.

"Oh chill, you Woolie," retorted Luatha.

"What happened to upperclass respect? You want to get into Hypatia Hall, don't you?" answered the upperclass girl, as she headed to the other side of the courtyard.

"Oh, there's Melisande – I gotta catch up with her!" gasped Luatha. "See you about!" and she took off to join a chattering group sitting among the courtyard firefly lights.

Caitlin watched Luatha go with resentment. Wasn't her Big Sister supposed to stick around now that Cait was somewhere where she could finally understand what everyone was saying? She would have liked to join the people lounging around the courtyard in the summerlike air, but was just too tired.

At the dorm door, Prost was awaiting the firstyears as they trickled back from the Great Hall. Caitlin raised her hand automatically at the door, then caught herself. No knob? No handle?

Prost explained, "Your wand will open it."

"Oh. Shit. Uh, shoot. Uh, it's in my room," stammered Cait.

Penny, however, proudly had her wand at the ready. "What do we do now?"

But first Prost addressed Cait. "_Always_ keep your wand on you. And never leave it out unattended." Then she stepped back to address both of them.

"What did the _Schoodic_ look like in dock today?"

Penny and Cait were completely confused, and only shrugged.

"Well, the password's _Schoodic_, just hold the image of the ship in your mind, then send it through your wand to the door," and she waved at Penny to try it.

"Couldn't you just say the word 'Schoodic'?" asked Cait.

"You _could_, and it is indeed easier to use the word than the image, but somebody might overhear it who shouldn't. Not so safe." And she gestured again at Penny, who seemed to be concentrating very intensely as she raised her wand nervously. A moment of concentration; the door shook a little.

"Trying too hard." Prost shook her head. "Just _see_ it."

This time the door shook a little again, and then it opened. "Good night!" Cait and Penny called to Prost, "Thank you!"

Once in the lobby, Penny did a sudden little dance. "It worked! I did it! We're really at a witch school! We're really witches!"

"Well we sure know you are!" said Cait, trying to smile for Penny, but still mad at herself for leaving her new wand in her bookbag. How was she supposed to know that even going to dinner required a wand?

"Hey, you'll get a turn tomorrow. Woohoo!"

"But you're from a wizard family! You probably grew up getting to try out magic, and I haven't!" groused Cait.

Penny shook her head. "Nope. My mom didn't believe in untrained magic being let loose, and I'd been kinda busy all the time helping with stuff around the house and with Gramma, anyways. But hey, we're here at school now, and we're gonna have fun!"

And even Cait found it hard to stay mad, as Penny grabbed her arm and skipped to their room, where they passed out until the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3, part 1: Classes begin.

Cait had been enjoying a lovely dream about Nini being at SWI; there even seemed to be a weight on her bed as if the cat really were there. She now awoke to the feel of sun on her face, and the brush of feathers. _Feathers?_ She opened her eyes to look into those of a raven, which was pacing alongside the edge of her bed, and had just turned to pace the other way, sweeping her face with its tailfeathers as it did so. She stared in disbelief; that was a lot of bird. Seeing that she was awake, the ravel gave a throaty "krrrk", dropped a scroll on the bed, and looked hopefully at the little table near Cait's bed, which had a small drawer she'd overlooked before.

Penny was already up, studying her copy of the class schedule. She laughed at the look on Cait's face. "Look what they send you for trying to sleep through the dinner bell! There's birdseed in that stand, they're paid in treats," she said.

Cait pulled open the drawer, hoping that this bird really was just a raven, and not a transformed person. "Here you go, and thank you," she said, and watched the bird leave by way of a hinged door in one corner of their old-fashioned eight-paned window.

She unrolled the scroll; words handwritten in black ink paraded across it: "Monday, September 10th. Firstyear schedule, group A. Breakfast 7-7:50. Greenwitchery 8-9:50. Spellwork 10-11:50. Lunch 12-12:50. Alchemy 1-2:50. Swimming at 4:00, meet at the gate under the Great Hall. Dinner at 7:00 pm. No tardiness tolerated. Monday, September 10th …"

Caitlin looked up. "Swimming? That's not magic!"

Penny put on her wizardry-expert face. "It must be a weatherworking prerequisite –older students get to weatherwork. I wonder if the courtyard's really a pool?"

Outside, a bell began striking; seven times its deep tones floated through the air, lingering for moments after the clapper finished striking. Cait looked out in time to see two eagles – "They're gorgeous!" she sighed – drop the pull-cord from a bell which hung in a cupola in the center of the Great Hall's peaked roof.

They scrambled for robes and books – Cait's robe in a heap on the floor, Penny's neatly hung back up in its wardrobe – ran down the hallway, and pushed open the front door.

Cait wheeled about as the door swung shut. "I'm gonna do that spell."

"We'll be late! We gotta eat and get to class!" wailed Penny.

Cait saw the ship clearly in her head – held it there – pointed her wand, and sent the image through it. An electric buzz flowed through her arm, through the wand, and to the door. She could feel the latch as it popped – bingo, the door opened.

"Woohoo! I did it too!"

Penny just rolled her eyes and walked briskly toward the Great Hall.

Once they were stuffed with tea, bread, eggs, cheese, smoked fish, and bacon (Cait was disappointed that the dishes stayed put on their buffet this time), the bell rang again, and the hallful of students suddenly cleared out and set off toward the library building.

By the time they'd trudged up all the stairs to the greenhouse, only about twenty students remained, all firstyears. Cait groaned to see that Ms. Magenta and her buddies were among them. As they caught their breath, there was the sudden sound of several things popping in the otherwise quiet space, and the unmistakable sound of cursing.

"Come right in, come in," said a voice from inside the greenhouse, and a frantic-looking freckled brown-haired witch stuck her head out of a doorway at the far end of the greenhouse, "and for Flora's sake, will somebody grab that mop by the front door and send it over to me?"

While students settled on the stools provided among the tables full of small pots, she took the mop and disappeared for a few minutes behind the door, then stepped out, more composed but still a bit frazzled-looking, closed the door, and began.

"Welcome to beginning greenwitchery, I am Rosa Broadleaf. Had some overeager plants in the other room, no big deal. Do you all have your books? Good. Please open them to page 5, 'One hundred most useful magical plants,' while I show you the plants themselves. I'll expect you to know the first twenty-five plants on this list for tomorrow." She glared as they all groaned. "Plant knowledge is the heart and soul of witchcraft, do not forget that. Wandwork is flashy, flying is fun, but herbs are essential. Firstly, Artemisia!"

From the table of small plants before her, she took a silvery, lacy-leafed plant. Tapping it with her wand, everyone suddenly had one of the plants in front of her. "Observe the pale green foliage, silver beneath, and with deeply dentellated leaves, and its light scent." She put it down, another wand tap, and the Artemisias disappeared from their tables. With "Beebalm" she was holding another little plant, and with another wand-tap, this reddish-leafed plant also appeared before them. So went the rest of the two hours.

Entering the spellwork classroom on the second floor, Cait was glad to see Ms. Corwin at the front of the room. Eagerly, she laid her wand on the smooth desktop, choosing a front-row seat out of habit, years of teachers and counselors making sure she got put there for the sake of her ears. Posters showing letters in four alphabets hung on the plastered walls; how many languages were they gonna have to learn? Cabinets stood about the edges of the room, containing books, blocks, plants, teacups, paper of all colors, branches, shells, feathers, stones …

"Ooh, ooh, we're back in kindergarten, look at the alphabet charts," sniffed one of Magenta Girl's friends, a pedigreed-looking blonde with yellow fluff sewn on the edges of her robes. But the alphabet she was looking at was nothing like Cait had ever seen before, consisting of bunches of lines, like a giant card-game scorecard, some parallel, some crossed, some diagonal. Penny looked intrigued at the charts; Meg looked overwhelmed at the sight of all those alphabets.

"Good morning, everyone," said Ms. Corwin. "I see that some of you are more than ready to pull out wands and begin work. Good. We'll have plenty of hands-on practice here. But spellwork is not just simply a matter of making the right sound, waving a wand, and poof -- there's your result. But we all know that from our own Partridge-Hall front door. Don't we, Claire?" And she looked pointedly at Magenta, who squirmed and tried to hide her embarrassment.

"There are many, many magical languages which the wizarding world employs. Over in areas of the former Roman Empire, such as in England, Latinate forms are preferred. Accio teapot," and the teapot on the nearest cabinet flew over to her desk.

"And the Grecian tradition has its own loyal following." A rapid-fire series of syllables; a china sugar bowl joined the teapot.

"But here in America, Hebraic-Aramaic forms are standard, and not only because of Puritan influence. Boh-ee kos," and a teacup with a mismatched saucer flew over. Corwin poured herself a cup, put in two lumps of sugar, and continued. "When the European witch persecutions began, much magical knowledge was preserved by Jewish magicworkers, who already had a few centuries' experience in how to thrive underground and out of the sight of unfriendly authorities. As soon as they were able, many of them fled over the Atlantic to the Americas in the 15th and 16th centuries, and were able to mentor many later refugees." She took a drink. "Feh, cold." A wand-wave, a word Caitlin couldn't at all catch. Steam now arose from the cup. "Of course, when those refugees from Europe arrived here, there already was an established magical community – many communities, as a matter of fact – among the native tribes of this continent. America contains many Indian tribes with many, many languages, and varied magical traditions of their own. The spell you just heard was from one of the woodland languages, a few hours north of here. There is a wonderful wizardry school in Arizona for those who wish to study Native magic in depth."

She paused a moment, stirred her tea. "There is also a school in New Orleans, which features another strong American magical tradition, Voodoo." Another unrecognizable word, its syllables all blurred together, and a scone perched on the edge of her saucer. "Not to worry. I will teach you only Aramaic-based spells, although acquaintance with these other alphabets" – a wave at the posters – "will follow in the second and third years of your coursework, and will be very useful to you in learning new spells. More importantly, the most well-written spells are absolutely useless without the proper intent to give them meaning and force. Without intention, you have no more magic than a common stage illusionist." She regarded the tea things in front of her. "Enough lecture. Let's play! Gamar, bo lekh na." A tap of her wand; the tea things vanished from her desk, now back on their cabinet shelf.

"Wands out, books away, choose a few little and light objects to practice on. Preferably something unlike your neighbor's things." Once everybody had chosen their objects and were again at their desks, Corwin said, "We will now practice sending the objects back to where we got them. The phrase is" – she slowed down, enunciating clearly – " 'Gamar, bo lekh na.' And remember, intention."

The room filled with the sound of twenty voices, some hesitant, some imperious, some having a terrible time producing the "kh" sound; Caitlin's neighbor, a petite redhead was saying "Lek na, lek na" to a persistently immobile scrap of paper. Caitlin, fortunately, knew that sound already, because her German uncle had drilled her years ago in how to properly say "Weihnacht", and so she pointed her wand at the blue robin's eggshell on her desk, visualized it flying back to the top shelf of the middle cabinet, and pronounced, "Bo, lekh na."

She felt the energy charge travel down her arm and through the wand to the shell, which traveled the same arc she had visualized, back to the shelf.

"Brava! What a beautiful first try!" crowed Corwin, appearing at Cait's elbow. "Does your family speak Hebrew? Yiddish? German?"

"A bit of German," said Cait, glowing. She was going to like this class very much.

"Can you help me?" said the redheaded girl wistfully. "How on earth do you say that sound?"

"This is how my uncle explained it to me," began Cait, and by the end of the class, they were both reliably zipping stuff from their desks back to various shelves.

"For tomorrow, everyone, begin learning the Alef-Bet on page 18," announced Corwin, as the bell rang for the next class.

"But why can't we just use the Latin words like the old families do over in England?" fumed Claire, who was over at the shelves, putting her objects back by hand. "These Mideastern languages have too many weird noises."

Corwin's eyebrow shot up as she regarded the petulant student. "You might do well to stop by the library on the way to lunch, and look up the good and very old name of Abulafia," she remarked dryly, "and bring me a one-page essay tomorrow on what you find."

Penny looked as if she were restraining a choice comment or two of her own as she and Cait headed downstairs. On their way out the building, Cait paused to admire the glass wall fronting the library, which was full of very old-fashioned looking shelves, tables and lamps. Cabinets stood about the main room, containing an ancient goblet here, and old map there, a giant leather-bound book with iron studs in the largest case. She longed for browsing time, but was too hungry to consider shorting lunchtime. As a matter of fact, the entire lobby they were in, between the library and the exterior glass wall, felt nothing at all like the rest of the rather staid and solid gray-stone building. "Weird place," she thought, as they crossed the courtyard.

Fortified with sandwiches and fruit, everybody arrived at the Alchemy classroom on time, where curtains were drawn, lamps lit, and Ebony awaited them. She wore a set of burnt-umber robes, nothing at all like the simple workrobes of Corwin and Broadleaf. Cait had hoped there'd be cauldrons, crystals, and lots of wandwork, but the desks here were bare, save for rolls of paper, one on each desk, piles of quills, and one penknife each. Once everybody settled in, Ebony spoke in a soft, slow, but clear voice. "You may remember me from the _Schoodic_. I am Graciela Melendez, and will be teaching you the first rudiments of the ancient art of alchemy, without which all of our other branches of magic – indeed this school – would not be in this world. Wands away, please." This was directed at Cait and a few others who were putting wands on desks in hopeful readiness. "When we are ready, we will use our wands, later in the semester. But to properly do magic, we must first learn the essence of things as they are. I will not make you create your own ink today, nor paper – but you will find out that there are very good reasons to know how to do so yourself. Sales of fraudulent Disappearing ink, for example, have led to thieves learning bank-box numbers at Margin Alley, which were thought to be secure. Or there is the embarrassment of a love note appearing at the wrong time to the wrong person. So, ink-making will be another day, potable, Disappearing, toxic, therapeutic, all kinds. Then there is papermaking. Milkweed silk for flying notes, clay in the pulp for those plates you enjoyed using at yesterday's lunch."

Yesterday? It felt like a week ago to Cait.

"So, today, we shall cut our own quills, then use them to write out the ABC's of alchemical formulae. Only when your fingers know how to cut a quill without conscious thought, will you then be ready to wand your own quills into pens." And the two hours were filled with quill-cutting, the occasional cut finger and resulting curse (at least they learned the healing spell "refah-na"), and too many blots of ink as new pens scratched out unfamiliar formulae.

Finally, it was time to grab swimsuits from the dorm and join the cluster of students which was gathering at the Great Hall arch. Cait could plainly hear Loud Voice as she joined the group. "….your swimsuit? No? Boh-ee swimsuit! Have you yours? Excellent!"

Many more students needed to have their suits summoned from home, than had theirs in hand. "Don't you think they'd have figured out that Salem's on the water when they were packing?" giggled Cait.

Penny shook her head. "Nah, let's skinny-dip, I say. Skinny-dip!"

Once everyone was equipped, Loud Voice appeared to count off silently, then began. "Good afternoon, firstyears. Your attention before we go to the pool. Any selkies present?" A slim girl with straight hair and brown eyes put up her hand. "Any students who have never swum before?" Three hands. Loud Voice whispered into a shell which hung on a green cord around her neck. "Any certified lifeguards? Swim-team members? What do you call it, YMCA shark level?" Six hands, Cait included. More whispering into the shell. Penny looked slightly worried. "OK, let's go get evaluated, and see how you all do in the water. My name's Lori Brunner, Master Weatherworker of SWI. For reasons of safety, we allow no students here to study weatherworking unless they demonstrate the ability to swim without magical aid. Not to worry, beginners, you will not need to equal lifeguards and selkies. I am sure that you'll all be together in Weatherworking when the time comes. Let's go!" And she led them through a door that blended into the Great Hall arch so perfectly that it was nearly invisible. The teacher had a slight accent which reminded Cait of her uncle.

Down a flight of stairs, then they entered a surprisingly airy cavern with a perfectly round pool in the middle; clusters of stalagmites made alcoves for changing into suits; a general glow filled the cavern's roof and reflected gently off the water's surface. The sound of rushing water was audible; a river?

To one side of the cavern, to the left of the stairs, a smaller chamber opened up, which contained an old-looking stone well, complete with a softly glowing canopy over it.

"I'm never gonna pass," moaned Penny, "I can only dogpaddle! Selkies!"

"At least you're ahead of the real beginners," offered Cait. "I'll paddle with you."

"Those of you who can swim, come get a shell once you're changed," bellowed Brunner. "Then start swimming circuits of the pool, clockwise, as many as you can do without exhausting yourselves. Beginners, you will be over here with me," and she waved at a smaller pool, which Cait had not noticed at first.

As everyone changed up, Brunner took the selkie girl aside for a moment, who then took off running up the stairs, while Brunner waited at the small pool.

After about four circuits of the pool, Penny's dogpaddle was beginning to look more like real swimming strokes, before she pulled herself out of the pool to rest and watch the stronger swimmers. Cait lasted another five circuits, then left the water; the shell she wore around her neck gave a "peep" and turned pink, once the water drained out of it. It had actually felt good to do something physical and nonmagical for a while. Over at the smaller pool, the three beginners were taking turns being pulled through the water, their hands on the back of a doe-eyed harbor seal.

The last swimmer to complete her circuits was Claire. "Clearly, I am the best swimmer here," she huffed.

Now that the pool was empty of swimmers, Brunner came over to collect their shells, listened to each of them, and placed them into practice groups, according to whatever the shells had told her about their swimming strength.

Unfortunately, Claire and her friend Amanda were in the same group as Cait; they looked offended. Penny was stuck with the other member of their triad, Elsbeth, who seemed less stuck-up than her buddies; there was a plump girl who Cait recognized from the ship in her group as well.

"How about those Fitchburg Finches?" grinned Cait.

"Huh? Oh, you're the one who didn't know about Quiddich!" smiled Meg. "Just wait until flying lessons. Flying's so much fun! Water, I don't know …" She waved her hand in a so-so motion.

After more practice circuits, the class day was over, and an hour and a half remained to tackle homework assignments before dinner.

Chapter 3 Part 2 – Night classes

The next day's classes went smoothly: Penny knew most of the Greenwitchery plants from her mom, and helped Cait with her homework; the five spells they were to learn from their books worked well for Cait except for 'shalaba" which was supposed to make a flame dance from the end of their wands ("your emergency night light"). Cait decided to send home for her flashlight instead. Corwin congratulated Cait on the four successful spells, but looked slightly concerned about the other one.

Broomwork was the next class of the following day, according to Wednesday's scroll. It was brought to her by a bright-eyed chipmunk, which kept bumping her nose with its 'till she woke. Cait wondered what happened to the old scrolls from yesterday and the day before – they seemed to have both vanished from the table where she'd put them at night.

She was so keyed up at breakfast that Meg took a break from her conversation with Violet to joke about forming an all-novice pre-Quiddich team for her. After breakfast, Meg happily showed off to Cait her souvenir poster of the Fitchburg Finches, as they all in turn demonstrated their signature moves. Meg had stories to share about nearly all the players, thanks to tagging along with her older brother Merle to their games for years. They then spent the next couple of hours in the library, looking up everything they could find and understand about brooms, flying, and wizard sports.

Finally, it was one o'clock, and Firstyear Group A stood in the courtyard, where a set of school brooms lay on the turf. A hearty-looking woman with wavy brown hair was pacing along a flowerbed in front of Hypatia Hall as they assembled, and stopped once the group was complete.

"Well and good, everyone's here," she stated. "We have a lovely day for flying. I am Patricia Greengage, and I will be teaching you the basics of how to transport yourself from here to there safely via broom. The arts of Quiddich-playing, broomball, and courier duties will not be taught here. However, I do also teach flying spells and charms, once you reach the upper classes. Before we begin, I must stress that common sense and courtesy in the air come first. Safely is very important. This is not broomstick derby, and I don't want to go visiting you in the infirmary. Don't bother telling me all about how expert in flying you already are. Doesn't matter --- simple practice benefits everyone. Once you are in the air, you will one by one fly from here over to the library and wait there. Experienced flyers, concentrate on control and steadiness. Beginners, you will start by pushing down on the handle, and will stop by pulling up on it. Now, everyone, straddle your brooms. You with the braid, no sidesaddle is allowed! Your name, please?" This was addressed to the redhead who couldn't say "kh".

"Minna, Ms. Greengage." She was blushing.

"Sidesaddle-riding is dangerously unstable, and is for stunt riding only. We are not Victorians, and have never been Puritans, thank the stars. All ready?" Greengage looked about the group. "The word is 'shamaya'."

"Shamaya," echoed twenty voices – but only seventeen students were now in the air, hovering at about four feet up. One petrified selkie, a puzzled Cait, and another girl Cait didn't yet know still remained on the ground. Cait could see the selkie shaking.

"No need to fear the air, girls," and Greengage put a reassuring hand on the selkie's shoulder. "The air is strong enough to hold you up when a broom-spell's under you, and if you do anything fancy and fall off your brooms, this courtyard" – she patted the groundcover – "is very accommodating. As a matter of fact, try it right now, all of you." She addressed the students in the air. "Fall off your brooms on purpose. Go ahead. Try it, see what happens."

Three bold students rolled off their brooms – and bounced on the springy turf. Surprised looks turned to grins as they reached for their brooms, and the other students followed.

"Okay, on your brooms, let's do this again. Listen sharp: 'sha-ma-ya'."

Nineteen brooms were now in the air; Caitlin still on the ground fuming. She _was_ saying what the teacher did!

"Shamaya." Still on the ground.

Greengage came over. "Let me hear you."

"Shamaya."

Greengage shook her head. "Almost. Sshamaya."

"Shamaya." Cait couldn't figure out what was missing.

"Put your tongue a bit further back, say it again."

"Sshamaya." Sounded the same to her, but _whoosh_, her broom filled with a charge like that of her wand, and she was suddenly up in the air with everyone else, wobbling to stay on like many of them. She did it! But could she do so again?

The selkie, to her right, was still looking rather scared at being so out of her element. Meg was grinning from ear to ear, and Penny's eyes were shining with anticipation.

One by one, they each took off toward the other end of the courtyard, some more slowly, some quickly.

"Yeehah!" went Meg as she shot off towards the library, only to fall off while trying to pull a showy turn in mid-flight, rather than stopping first, then turning.

Greengage frowned at her. "Be less of a daredevil, Miss Ainslee, and you'll be flying as well as your sister!"

"Yes, Ms. Greengage", replied Meg politely, but Cait saw her pull a face when Greengage's attention shifted.

Penny went next, flying slowly but precisely, her expression like that of Cait's dad when he was listening to the car motor to figure out if it was tuneup time yet or not.

Then it was Cait's turn – she pushed down the handle – oh, the wind in her hair felt great – then she suddenly found herself on the turf, one hand still hanging onto the broom.

"Um, nice turf," she quipped while picking herself up; she heard giggles overhead.

"Shamaya!" Nothing. "Oh, right. Sshamaya!" she said, saying the "s" the new way.

To her relief, the broom brought her back into the air.

By the end of the class, three falls later, Cait figured out it was like a balance beam – going fast and steady kept her aboard, but going slowly needed more concentration, and then she would wobble, and find herself again on the turf.

As they returned their brooms to Greengage, and headed to Mindcasting class, Meg rushed up to Cait. "Hey, you were going fast once you learned to stay on! Can I sign you on for Chaser once I've got a team? Or Seeker?"

"Ha, I'll probably fall off as soon as I see the Snitch!" grinned Cait. "Do they have races in the wizard world? Maybe I could race."

Penny shook her hair out of her eyes and began braiding it up. "I can't even imagine going as fast as you two. "I'll be cheerleader!"

Mindcasting class was rather fun – they divvied up into pairs, and practiced sensing different moods, one person with her eyes closed, wand out, as the other one acted out various moods which were written on little cue cards. Meg seemed to especially enjoy this assignment.

No matter what mood Penny was projecting, though, an aura of impatient haughtiness constantly leaked over from Claire, who sat nearby. In contrast, Amanda projected only cool disdain, and Elsbeth absorption in the exercise. "What is _with_ her?" wondered Cait.

As the bell rang, and everyone walked out the door, Cait did a little finger-flick in Claire's direction and pulled a face.

"What was that about?" queried Penny, intrigued.

"Sign language," answered Cait. "This sign means 'God, she's nasty.'"

Penny giggled. "How do I sign, 'Homework's nasty?' Or tell my brother 'bug off'?"

And all the way to Zoomorphia, Cait was busy teaching Penny the few, but rather useful, signs which she had retained from a well-meaning Signed English class inflicted on her during the fourth grade.

In Zoomorphia, fortunately, the Magenta Trio sat elsewhere in the classroom, making it easier for Cait to concentrate on following the ant she was supposed to observe as it traveled through the giant anthill in the middle of the classroom. It did look rather funny, she thought, looking around at all the students gathered around the anthill, wands out; it was just like that movie she once saw at the zoo of wild chimps at a termite mound.

"Hey Penny," she whispered, "you ever hear of chimps fishing for termites?"

"Hoo hoo, dinnertime!" nodded Penny, and they cracked up laughing so hard, they nearly got themselves demerits from the annoyed teacher, who was swinging her glasses by the temples as she sternly regarded the girls.

"Yay! Real dinner now!" cheered Cait and Penny in unison as the bell rang, and they ran off to Great Hall.

Astronologia was scheduled for after supper, and the sky was beautifully clear as they crossed the dark courtyard, Cait with one hand on Penny's elbow as they walked, since darkness had always made her sense of balance go haywire. She was really looking forward to this class.

At least they didn't have to cut through the dorm – a witch with café au lait skin, dark curly hair, and an impatient air met them at the door, and brought them around to the side of the building. "Here is the Up-Chute; this is how non-Hypatia residents get to the Observatory Dome."

The teacher had her stand at a stone circle in the ground, pronounce the one-word spell: "mazlaya!", and whoosh, Cait was flying straight up the side of the building, as if via invisible elevator, and deposited inside the clear globe she'd seen yesterday atop the dorm. How'd she get through that glass or whatever it was? she marveled. The view was absolutely stunning – there was none of the light pollution that would be expected in the middle of a town, and the dome gave an unbroken view of the entire starlit sky.

Penny appeared suddenly beside her. "Boy, I'm gonna like this dome," Cait told her, "The best stargazing always seems to be when it's freezing out."

Once the teacher had introduced herself as Ms. Pitts and had confirmed that all the correct students were present, she began the evening's lecture – and her voice dropped to a blurry mumble which Cait could only decipher with a lot of concentration, provided none of the other students decided to rustle their notes or flip through their text.

Worse, whenever Ms. Pitts turned away from the students to point out a relevant constellation or planet on the other side of the dome, her speech became completely incomprehensible.

Suddenly, after pointing out one particularly bright point near the horizon, she whipped around to look directly at Cait with an expectant air. Oh, no was that latest mumble a question?

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear the question," Cait ventured.

"Pay closer attention to the lecture, then," Ms. Pitts snapped, then loudly repeated the question: "If the star Antares, which we have just been observing, sets three minutes earlier every evening from now, what time will it set next Wednesday?"

Cait quickly gauged how high above the horizon that bright point now was, and did the arithmetic. "Eight pm, Ms. Pitts."

The teacher nodded abruptly, and continued her lecture, dropping her voice to the same mumble it had been before, as Cait fervently prayed to not be called on again. How was she ever going to pass this class?

Apparently, Penny had noticed her nervousness. After the lecture, as they studied copies of the autumn star chart, she slid over a note: "I've been following the text. Same as the lecture, exactly. Boring." Cait felt immediately better. If this was how Ms. Pitts taught, then all she had to do was study the book! She had passed classes this way before.

"Thanks!!!! I owe you," she wrote back, while Ms. Pitts perused an enormous black-bound book with shimmering pages.

Cait didn't care that they had to memorize the planets, their orbits, correspondences, and properties; just being in this dome, basking in the presence of these glorious stars was enough. She didn't even care that the teacher was snippy, impatient, and clearly wished to be doing her own stargazing, rather than teaching the rudiments to a class of adolescents. Never mind that Ms. Pitts had no idea how to talk to hard-of-hearies. How did upperclass students get to live in Hypatia Hall? She decided that she had to find out.

Friday's schedule flew in with the soft whirring of a dove, as Cait groped for the birdseed drawer. It was a "Monday" Friday, meaning that there would be Spellwork, Greenwitchery, and Alchemy; next week would be a "Wednesday" Friday.

A pop quiz awaited them in Greenwitchery – each of them were to locate and identify a different healing plant which was hidden in a wild and weedy little garden tucked into the patch of land between Sophia Hall and the library. Penny was the first student to locate her plant. As Cait hunted down her own plant, she slipped surreptitious hints to Meg, who was struggling to remember the difference between lobed and toothed leaves, and which one belonged to the plant she needed. Then they had to observe and tend the plants in their dorm rooms over the next two weeks. Although she still missed Nini, Cait was glad that the plant-chewing cat wasn't at SWI then.

Having successfully identified and relocated her Menthus Phosphorescens, Cait eagerly ran off to Spellwork. They were now working on moving progressively larger and heavier objects, and Cait decided to use the mugful of water she'd brought with her. The weather was still very warm, and she'd taken to refilling it whenever she discovered another of the many fountains tucked in around the school grounds.

She'd been studying the list of Aramaic words in the back of the spellwork book, so that she'd have a fighting chance of understanding what Corwin was saying whenever she assigned them a new spell. Corwin paced before the class as she described the new spell they were to use that day. "This spell sends things upward, think sky, think clouds."

Then Corwin pronounced a word that sounded to Cait like 'mayim'. The word for 'water' was not what Cait was expecting to hear, but that _was_ what it sounded like. Then she chose her landing spot, pronounced, "Mayim", aimed her wand at the mug – and watched as the water in her mug lifted itself in a crystalline mass and traveled towards her chosen shelf. But not only the water in her mug was in motion – a stream of water was emerging from Corwin's teakettle, and a ring of water joined both of these from the base of a plant on the windowsill. Fascinated, Caitlin watched the triple masses of water join at the shelf – and promptly turn into a giant splash of water that caught everybody's attention as the water arrived at its goal, and the spell finished its work.

Oh shit. The room was completely quiet now, except for the water dripping off the shelf, and forming a large puddle on the battered wooden floor.

With a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, Corwin asked, "What on earth possessed you to attempt moving all that water?"

"Wasn't the spell 'mayim'?" asked Cait, wishing for an invisibility spell.

"No it isn't, the word was 'shamaya', just like you use for your broomsticks, as a matter of fact. Why don't I write it down." She turned to the board, waved her wand in a graceful right-to-left curve, and gently-glowing letters appeared in the Alef-Bet they had just learned.

Then she directed her wand at the still-dripping shelf and the puddle beneath it, proclaimed "Shuvah na," and the water returned to Cait's mug, the plant-pot, and the teakettle.

"Please be sure to study your assigned spells before class next time," reminded Corwin. "I will not be expecting you to perform any spells in class that have not already been learned from your books, useful as the word 'mayim' may be." She waited until Cait successfully "sshamaya'd" her mug, with the water this time, to the shelf and back to her desk, before addressing the class. "Who has any questions about reading the Alef-Bet?"

Penny waited until the end of class before barraging Cait with questions. "Oh you have to tell me – what was that word? How do you say it? Where did you find it? I wonder if other liquids can be moved around that way?" Cait wasn't sure she liked the scheming look on Penny's face.

Alchemy class was thankfully uneventful; they spent it mixing a basic Vanishing Ink, visible only to the intended recipient of whatever was written with it.

"This ink will be mandatory for all SWI exams," informed Melendez as she walked about the classroom eying all of the cauldrons in use, "so you must follow the formula most exactly."

Fortunately, these instructions were all clearly written down, so there were no chances for mishearing anything important. All the same, Penny kept casting hopeful glances towards Cait's cauldron; Cait only glared back.

Despite an abundance of homework, Cait, Penny, Meg, and Violet thoroughly enjoyed their first SWI weekend. They spent all Saturday badgering their Big Sisters to escort them into town and back, which they finally condescended to do, with a quick review of how to work the front gate. The Peppermill fudge lived up to Greatwood's recommendation, and they spent the rest of that hot Indian-summer day paddling school kayaks in the blissfully cool pool under Great Hall.

Chapter 3, part 3 – Broomracing

Over the next few weeks Astronologia and Zoomorphia joined Spellwork as favorite classes of Cait's, despite inexplicable difficulties now cropping up in Spellwork. Plenty of the spells worked fine for her – but others refused to work at all, no matter how carefully she studied the Spellwork vocabulary or sounded out the spellings. How was it so easy for the other students? Was it her bad hearing getting in the way? Sometimes experimenting with the pronunciation did the trick – only to have the trouble of trying to remember what exact change had made it work next time she needed the spell.

During her free time, she took to rock-flicking again, due to the sheer pleasure of the simple gesture with its reliable effect. Not at all like those unpredictable words.

Studying the Astronologia text before classes helped immensely. In case of being called on in class, Cait developed the habit of looking extremely absorbed in studying the sky during Ms. Pitt's mumbled lectures. That way, she hoped that the teacher would think she was being a dedicated scholar, rather than a spacey daydreamer, when Cait invariably asked her to repeat questions.

Broomwork was frustrating as well, but fun – Cait and Meg had taken to doing broom sprints over the Partridge Hall's roof before supper. After all, Halfterm was coming up in October, there would be family to show off to, and they wanted to be at their best. There was no danger of accidently ending up within muggle eyeshot, as the school brooms were charmed so that they could not leave school property. One time, when Cait tried to aim for a nearby rooftop, the broom veered around at the edge of the Partridge-Hall roof, leaving Cait with a scraped elbow when the sudden turn dumped her onto the dorm roof.

Once they had their fill of flying, Meg and Penny would sit and talk, Penny often joining them just before they all went to eat. Meg delighted in explaining wizarding things to Cait, and regaled her with bits of weather- and broom-lore learned from her older siblings. On days when Meg's broomwork was particularly reckless, however, she would be more likely to rant about how the teachers always expected her to be just like her genius weatherworking sister.

And on days when conversation flagged, Meg would suddenly announce, "Mindcast!", close her eyes, and Mindcast Penny and Cait's moods, or scope out the state of mind of a messenger bird on its way to the nearby cote, or check in with a passing squirrel.

Breakfast time was their other favorite time to talk. Great Hall was still one very noisy room at dinner and lunchtimes, but it was much less full, and much less noisy, first thing in the day.

After putting up with the noise for a week, Cait went to the infirmary just below the greenhouse to ask if there were any wizarding gadgets to help sort out wanted sounds from general noise. The placid Hedgie on duty shrugged and had no idea but disappeared into another room, where she apparently had a conversation with other staff. The full-fledged witch that returned carried a glittering golden object that looked like a single trumpet-blossom on a long and leafless vine.

"This end goes in your ear – ahem, you've got a hearing aid there already." She concentrated for a moment, and directed her wand at the vine. "This trumpetvine knows what to do. You wear it necklace style, with this end at your hearing-aid microphone. Whenever you want to listen to something in particular, the blossom end will take itself over to the sound you want to hear."

On her way back to the dorm with the vine draped around her neck, Cait was dismayed to see Claire coming the other way. To her surprise, however, Claire "helloed" her in an unusually friendly way as she eyed the golden blossom, and wanted to know if it was a designer piece.

"Custom," she replied with a smirk.‎

Eagerly, Cait brought the pretty object along to supper that night to try it out. ‎Unfortunately, as soon as she leaned in to figure out exactly what Meg had to say about ‎the boys' next broom race, the golden trumpetvine snaked over her plate to hover in front ‎of Meg, and broomracers were forgotten while all eyes turned to the shining device. They ‎all had questions about "what was THAT", and all at the same time, so that the vine ‎became a hovering blur conveying a patchwork of phrases as each person joined in.

Even Elsbeth leaned over from the next table, appearing to be genuinely interested in the device, while Claire now pointedly ignored her, striking up an animated conversation with Amanda.

Only Penny remained quiet, impatiently waiting for the conversation to resume its earlier topic; she didn't seem at all curious about the device.

Nor was her attempt to use it in Astronologia any more successful. Ms. Pitts eyed the device as it snaked its way to her during lecture, proclaimed it to be a dangerous distraction whose golden shine would interfere with light levels, and declared that Cait should simply listen more in class. Cait nearly retorted that the vine WAS how she listened, but didn't want to risk any demerits.

Thankfully, there was Halfterm to look forward to, now three weeks away, as was the school's broomwork demonstration. The first Quodpot game was to happen then, and Penny and Cait had to endure Meg's constant grumbling about the fact that the season's first Quiddich game (SWI Amazons versus Palisade Pounders) got obvious second-rate scheduling on the following weekend, when everyone's families had returned home. Meg's mood became much brighter, however, the morning a falcon flew into Great Hall during breakfast, delivering the 5 Quiller from Merle and a note wishing the Amazons a good game.

Broomball was the sport that completely defied Cait's imagination. "So they are hitting the ball with the brooms _as_ they are flying on them? This is where all the gymnasts go, right?" The thought alone made her feel dizzy.

As they became more adept at flying, the courtyard became more confining, and Greengage reminded them again that there would be firstyear participation in the halfterm broomwork demonstration. Meg and Cait redoubled their rooftop efforts, while the "Magenta Trio" walked about with insufferable smirks.

"Don't forget that there'll be boys there, too!" Meg's eyes glowed as she reminded Cait.

One Wednesday, the day's schedule proclaimed that Broomwork class was to meet at the pool under Great Hall. Penny, Meg, and Cait spent all lunchtime hatching theories: practice with water landings? A really big cave with more room to race than the courtyard? Night flying? The thought of that last prospect terrified Cait – she had once tried riding a bike with her eyes closed, and only got a very scraped-up pair of knees from finding out that no, she had no sense of balance in the dark.

As it turned out, they were wrong on all counts.

Greengage led them to a passageway on the far side of the pool, and the rushing-water sound became quite a bit louder. The cavern floor pitched down, and then they were suddenly at the bank of a furiously-rushing underground river. It was like no river that Cait had ever seen – it flowed in two directions at once, the near side flowing to the right, the far side flowing to the left. A set of canoe-like double-ended boats with four seats apiece hovered just above the water, awaiting their passengers; the leftmost one was already loaded with the class' brooms, and each boat had its own glow-globe hovering above it.

"Step in everyone, step in!" bellowed Greengage above the water noise. "Four to a boat, let's go!" Cait, Penny, Meg, and the selkie eyed the boat nearest them: step into a boat that's in midair? As the selkie stepped into the boat, she nodded and waved them in after her – Cait put a foot in the boat tentatively, but the boat held itself as firmly as if she were stepping onto a dock, not into a boat.

Greengage continued shouting once they were in the boats. As the words were nothing but incomprehensible babble against the competing sound of the water, Cait could catch only bits and pieces: "Blablabla elbows IN! Blabla sitting, blabla NO standing, blablabla wands AWAY, blablabla." Greengage stepped into the boat with the brooms, sat down, and seemed to say one more thing which must have been a spell, because all six boats lowered themselves in unison and shot off down the river to the left, as soon as they touched water. One bookbag fell overboard, and Greengage fished it out with a quick spell; Caitlin guessed that she must have been keeping an eye out for boating novices who didn't know to stow their stuff properly. Another set of shouts from Greengage, which must have been further reminders about boating etiquette.

The river's course took them through caverns of all sizes, and at one point, the walls closed in on the river so tightly and suddenly – "ouch!" Cait's elbow had been further out of the boat than she'd realized, and she now had a nice scrape from the rock wall beside her. No wonder Greengage had mentioned "elbows in".

After about ten minutes, the boats suddenly lifted and hovered; green-filtered light glowed overhead, and the walls widened around them. Greengage's boat flew up to the ceiling, where the light filtered in; then they could see only the bottom of her boat. After a moment, the empty boat floated down to hover above the river, and Greengage's face appeared among the tall grass that edged a narrow opening in the cavern roof. "Each boat will bring you up here, in turn; step out as soon as you get up here, no dawdling!"

Two boats went ahead of them, then it was time for Cait's boat. The rush of air as the boat lifted up was better than a Ferris wheel, then they were surrounded by grasses. "Step out, step out!" prodded Greengage beside them.

As before, the boat held steady as they all stepped out, then it sank out of sight once empty. The students in the first two boats were selecting their brooms from where they were piled nearby, and Cait, Meg, and Penny hurried to do likewise.

"What is your name, by the way?" Cait asked the selkie "I hope the brooms are a lot less scary for you now."

"I'm Andrea," answered the brown-eyed girl, "and yes, I still don't really like flying, but at least I don't shake all afternoon anymore. You're lucky you like the air so much," she sighed.

Soon, all twenty students were out of their boats and equipped with brooms. They stood on the edge of a golf course, where a sign hung on the fence. "Closed due to soggy ground conditions. Apologies, The Management."

"Welcome to the Salem town golf course," announced Greengage. "This is where we will hold tryouts to find out which of you will represent the firstyear class at the broomwork demonstration at Halfterm. We will also hold practices here, occasionally, where you will note that there's much more space than our courtyard, and other practices requiring ample space will be held over the ocean. Your schedules will tell you when that's the case. There will eventually be night flying next semester, when you are more solid on your brooms."

Panic gripped Caitlin's gut; how on earth was she going to manage _that_? Maybe there were spells for balance; she made a note to go to the library and search the spellwork books.

"Time to warm up. Let's fly!" A sweep of Greengage's arm, and twenty whooping and hollering firstyears were swooping and racing in the open air. Once everyone had settled down a bit, Greengage signaled them all over to an ancient and very tall oak, and had each of them fly their fastest from that oak, over to a jagged-topped spruce; Cait wondered if it had been struck by lightning.

As each student reached the spruce, Cait saw a flash of blue; then it was her turn, and she hovered beside the teacher. "Not until I give the signal – you will see my left arm drop, then go." Greengage pointed the wand in her right hand at the spruce as she held her left arm up, drew a small circle with the wand, and a shimmering pale-blue circle appeared at the spruce, slightly to the right of its trunk.

The arm-drop at Cait's left, and she was off, feeling the glory of open air and wind rushing past her, no nearby buildings to avoid, speeding towards the circle. Through the circle now – it lit up bright blue, and Cait slowed her broom, and curved back around to face the oak before dismounting, pleased to finally be able to do so without falling off. To her right, Andrea beamed at her.

Meg was immediately after her, quickly reaching the flashing hoop – "I don't think I've ever seen you go so fast! You look great!" enthused Cait.

"Look out Finches! I'll play for them yet," bragged Meg.

Soon, Greengage was reading off everyone's 500-broomlength times, Cait straining to hear what hers would be. Meg suddenly let out a huge whoop and was high-fiving Cait. "We're goood! The three halfterm flyers are you, me, and Amanda! Woohoo!"

Amanda just lifted her chin coolly, as she regarded the jubilant pair: "You're such plebs. That's just demonstration. I'm still going to win the real races," as she drifted over to Claire, who high-fived her, and Elsbeth, who looked pleased, but also mildly exasperated.

"What's she going to do, bewitch the judges?" Cait eyed the strutting blonde.

"Nah, athletic judges are hexproof," answered Meg. "They're really strict ever since this guy bought himself a trophy last year. With pixie Adels, no less. We'll show her – she may have connections, but we know how to work hard."

Cait could tell that it was going to take some really hard work to top Amanda. During the rest of that day's practice, she kept an eye on the haughty girl. Amanda's confidence was not unearned -- she truly was a strong flyer in her own right. Cait and Meg decided to increase their daily practices by fifteen minutes, as they carried their brooms back to where the boats awaited them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4, part 1 – A small difference.

Fwoosh!

The bag full of spellbooks went flying onto Cait's bed, followed by her hat; Nick jumped off the windowsill where he had been blissfully sunning himself, and dove into the safety of a terrarium which Penny set up beside her bed. Her wand very nearly went flying next, but she stopped just short of doing so – one didn't just throw wands around. Besides, if she broke it, where would she be? But then again, if her spells only worked half of the time, what kind of witch would she be? She threw herself on the bed, and stared at the crazing in the old ceiling plaster.

After today's miserable Spellcraft class, she'd thought that Alchemy would never be over – she was looking forward to burning off some good old muscle energy in swim class. And it felt great to be in the water, butterflying away – until there was Brunner madly running alongside her, and yelling, "No spellwork! No spellwork!" As she pulled up at the side of the pool to find out what the yelling was about, several disappointed swimmers also pulled up poolside – they had been riding the current that Cait's fury had inadvertently created.

Then there were the spells that worked, but not the way she wanted them to. The first time she tried to get back to the school solo – she'd gone to Peppermill for more of that fudge to get her through late-night Astronologia study – it had taken three teachers to get the front gate unstuck. Could she help it that the brick column, instead of opening up into the usual path, decided to go merge with the other column instead and make the _muggle_ path disappear?

The two unfamiliar teachers had looked very annoyed, but Corwin was the third one, and Cait could swear that she spent the whole time trying not to laugh. It had sounded to Cait like everyone was saying "b'tokhah" when they did the wand-tap, but then Corwin wrote out "p'toh-akh" on a slip of paper, and with eyes sparkling, handed it to Cait with instructions to keep it in her hat at all times whenever going into town. For the next two Spellcraft classes, she couldn't even look at Corwin for embarrasment.

And now today's class.

She couldn't get the spell to work at all, not even once! They were practicing a spell that was designed to put things away in their designated places. It was a simple spell, really, with one single word: "s'dar." For everyone else in the class, that is, it was simple. Her own paper, quill, and ink, however, refused to put themselves in her desk, no matter how patiently the puzzled Corwin coached her in how to say it, no matter how many different ways she tried to pronounce it.

Sitting up on the bed, she aimed her wand. "S'dar," she told the books which had fallen out of the bag and lay scattered about. "S'dar!"

They remained immobile.

A flash of insight burst upon her - it had to be the "s" sound. She had always had trouble pronouncing "s," the one sound she couldn't properly hear – and when she tallied up in her mind the spells that didn't work, they always seemed to involve that particular sound.

But she _had_ learned to do the flying spell, "shamaya" reliably, and she _was_ going to learn how to do this one.

"S'dar!" she tried once more with the books, turning her tongue a little bit towards the roof of her mouth. Nothing.

Her stomach rumbled, and she remembered the apple that was supposed to be in her pocket for a mid-morning snack – there it sat, at her table by the window. She didn't feel like getting up to get it, and who knew, maybe the spell would work if she tried another object. She aimed her wand at it.

"S'dar!"

It sat.

"Ss'dar!" Still nothing. Her temper flared.

"So sit there then!" Wand still pointed, her annoyance flashed along the wandlength as her fingers did the "I hate this" flick – the apple exploded.

Cait blinked. Damn, she wanted to eat that apple. Too much temper.

But wait a minute … that was right. It _was_ possible to make things happen without speech. Her fingers formed the sign again as she mulled the idea over – was there any such thing as _signing_ a spell? She wished she knew more signs. But then again, maybe there was a whole wizard signing vocabulary, the way there were spoken spells in so many languages. But did one form the sign and wand out the energy with the same hand? Or did people sign with one hand while wanding with the other?

She had to find out more. Stowing her wand in her robe's wand-pocket, Cait tore out of the dorm to the library, only to stand immobile before the ranges of books. Where to begin looking?

The roomful of books, four levels high, stood before her. Three-fourths of the room was filled with elaborately-carved wooden shelves full of books of all sizes and kinds; lacy iron-filigree spiral staircases linked the four levels of bookshelves.

Just inside the library's front door stood a line of stone arches. She had thought they were decoration at first, but the school librarian, Ms. Fletcher, had made sure everyone knew the use of these arches during the first-years' library orientation.

Now, she stood under an arch and considered. Spells had to come from somewhere – spellwork, spellmaking -- "Spellwriting," she told the arch. A glow went up from a range of books to her left, and one level up. But the arch filled with a red-tinted glow that restrained her momentarily – that was an advanced-level subject. She ran up to that range anyway, tripping over some of the spiral steps in her hurry. But once she sat down on the floor with those books, the advanced-level writing didn't make much sense to her, with their unfamiliar vocabulary and exotic alphabets. Besides, they only seemed to mention spoken languages.

Back she went to the stone portal. "Sign language." One book in the basic-reference area lit up, and a white glow emanated from the portal – an entry-level book. As soon as she opened it, she could tell it was useless – it was a guide to muggle languages, written for wizard-born-wizards. Now what?

Think. _Did_ a spell always have to be spoken?

Her teachers all used spoken spells in class, on the _Schoodic_ they did as well … wait! What had Prost said about the front-door spell? It _could_ have been a spoken one, but they had chosen to not make it one –

Back to the portal. "Silent spells," she told it. A glow went up two shelves over from the original books she'd consulted, and the portal now glowed rose, indicating that it was an upper-level subject. She went to the shelf; of the five books that still glowed before her, two of them carried "For teachers only" red bands around them. Remembering her bookstore experience, she left those ones alone, and took the other three from the shelf. _Nonverbal Spells for Healing Practitioners_ read one title; that one went right back onto the shelf. It was full of lots of dry technospeak she couldn't decipher, and its clinical tone was too much like those boring audiological offices where there was lots of sitting and questions and those awful headphones – but the questions were never about anything really interesting.

The next book was more promising: _Peace in the House: Quiet Spells for Canny Parents_. Did Penny know about this book? Cait was going to have to ask her how often wizard parents used strategic spells to keep unruly kids in line, and if Penny's brother was often on the receiving end.

That left _The Unvoiced Spell: A Brief Introduction_. It had a whole chapter on how to form mental images, which Cait found rather boring, since this was one of the easiest parts of Spellwork class for her. Although some of the vocabulary and techniques were beyond her, this book looked promising.

Flipping to the index, she looked up "hands" – "handshapes" – "signs" … not there, none of them. "Gestures" – aha! Page 47. But no – this was about wand movements, not hand movements. Annoyed, she shoved this last book onto the shelf with more noise than she should have, earning an inquisitive glance from Ms. Fletcher, who was marking up an issue of _Spellcraft Today_ with notes about new books the library should purchase.

Think. Think.

She was very sure that the apple wouldn't have exploded without the hand-motion she had done, any more than the rocks at her house would have moved, or the bus tire would have gone flat. Why was there nothing in the books about this?

_Think_. Gesture … signs … deaf. There! She had to look that up.

Back at the portal, she said, "Deaf."

A white light went up from the portal, and one book glowed off to the right – _The Pedagogy of Wizardcraft_. The index showed one single page-reference for "deaf": "The education of deaf children of magical ability is generally regarded as impossible unless they are able to acquire excellent speech skills."

Great. So _this_ was as good as it got? She threw the book down, earning a glare, and blushed as she put it back, quietly. So much for the library. She longed for her computer which had to be left at home; magical energies made electronic circuits go haywire, according to Meg.

As she headed for the door, however, Fletcher didn't look at all mad, but sympathetic. "It looks like you could use some help," she offered.

All Cait wanted to do was to go back to her room and sulk, but figured she'd better answer. "Nothing there on what I want," she grumbled.

"Don't be so sure," Fletcher assured her. "Just because we don't have it in this library, doesn't mean we can't get it."

Cait sighed. "I'm trying to find out if there's any such thing as spells that are signed, instead of spoken. I mean, do spells have to be all spoken, or set up special, like the dorm doors? Can a sign that is done with your hands" – she gestured automatically – "_be_ the spell, the way words are?"

Fletcher thought for a moment. "It is true that we belong to a very logocentric tradition of magicworking here at SWI. But there are, as you know, many magical traditions, with many different methods. You might want to browse _A World Guide to Magical Traditions_, over here" – she waved her wand, and a book lit up to her right in the reference area. "In the meanwhile, I'll search the periodical literature for what I can find." She nodded toward the back of the room, where Cait could hear something which sounded like a hundred birds flying around. Fletcher regarded the issue of _Spellcraft Today_ which she still held. "Unfortunately, much of the periodical literature is also quite heavily logocentric. If I do find anything useful, be it from here or from another library, the library fox will bring it to you," and she now motioned over to a nearby table. Under it, a fox had been napping, but it now opened its eyes and regarded Cait and Ms. Fletcher.

Cait was surprised at how much more calm she now felt as she browsed _World Guide to Magical Traditions_, even though it didn't offer anything to help her out.

Thanking Ms. Fletcher, she made her way back to her dorm room, still thinking things over.

If she did the signs she knew, but changed the handshapes so that she could still hold the wand, would they work? After all, signing, writing, and wandwork were all done with the same hand, one just didn't swap off. And why was spellwork always done in other languages? If they didn't do spells in plain English, would she be able to borrow ASL signs? But on the other hand, if nobody else at SWI used ASL, would it matter?

Well, she was going to try it anyway.

Cait's mind ran through the possible spells for which she might know an appropriate sign from her slim vocabulary.

_Let's start with that spell that Corwin used for the teacup_ – she grabbed her Spellwork text from the bed. There it was – "Boh-ee kos." Looking up its translation, she realized there was one equivalent sign she could remember from that fourth-grade class, "to come over."

Excitement filled her. Pointing her index finger while clasping the wand, she directed it toward a quill that had fallen out of her bag, formed the intention in her mind, made the sign rather awkwardly while trying to decide exactly when and how to direct the energy – the quill gave a hop and made it halfway down the bed to her, but the spell _had_ worked using the sign instead of speaking the word.

She tried again, forming the sign with her left hand as she did the usual wandwork with her right – better, but then the quill fell back when she wasn't quick enough to catch it with the left hand, still in the handshape from the sign.

Now, to try a signed version of that dratted "S'dar" spell her tongue refused to do right.

Again, time to consult the Spellwork glossary – it means to "put in order". The sign for "nice and neat," perhaps? Thankfully, that was another sign she still recalled from 4th grade.

She concentrated on the books scattered on her bed, which really belonged on the shelf above her desk. Cait visualized the books traveling there, slid one horizontal palm against the other as best she could while holding the wand, then aimed the wand at the books while sending the energy through it – sure enough, they began to move themselves over to the desk.

The room door suddenly opened, and books crashed to the floor, as Penny took in the scene – the apple mess, Cait's hands in midair, the scattered books …

"Girl, are you possessed or something? The way you were swimming, I didn't dare ask. And what is _that _mess?" She cast a glance toward the exploded apple.

"I've got this really exciting idea," babbled Cait, "but I wouldn't have had it if it weren't for that horrible spellwork class, and Ms. Fletcher is going to send me a fox if she finds out anything, and you know how I've been having a really hard time with some of the spells not working at all."

Penny's bewildered face made it clear that Cait wasn't making one bit of sense.

Cait took a big breath. "You remember the spell I couldn't do in today's class?"

Penny nodded.

"Well, it works it I _sign_ it instead of saying it. Watch!"

Cait turned to the books on the floor, concentrated, made the sign again, and pointed the wand. This time, the books completed their journey, and lined themselves up on the shelf.

With a huge grin, Cait turned to Penny. "Ta dah!"

Penny's face showed something like awe. "Only advanced students can _make_ spells. You're scary good if you can do that in your first year! But what in Hecate's name _is_ this mess?" She grimaced as she indicated the apple.

"Uh, I lost my temper while trying to do the 's'dar' spell in here. How come they haven't taught us any cleaning-up spells yet?" anwered Cait.

Before going to dinner, she sent a crow to her parents, asking them to get out her old sign-language book, which had been gathering dust in the living-room bookcase for the last year, and explaining that a Broomcourier would be stopping by the house soon to pick it up.

The book was in her hands at suppertime the next day, and Cait showed it off to her friends over dessert. "We should learn these signs anyways, they'll give us a way to gab when it's too noisy or we're not allowed to make noise," she told them.

"C'mon, where are the dirty words and the swears?" demanded Penny as she perused the worn paperback.

"Maybe we can get some cute Deaf guys to teach us more," daydreamed Meg.

The next morning, Cait awoke at dawn, too excited to sleep in. How could she get this signed-spell idea to work better? Holding a wand while signing was awkward – there had to be a solution.

First of all, would anything happen if she didn't use a wand at all? Her eye fell on the hat on her desk, as she sat up. She focused on the hat, formed her intention, and made the "come-over-here" sign with both hands, then sent the energy through her wandless hands. The hat gave a little hop.

Getting out of bed, she retrieved her wand; maybe she could somehow attach it to her hand? Looking about the room, the hat again drew her attention. Aha – there was a ribbon right on it. Removing the ribbon, she now wrapped it around her wand and her right hand, then spent about ten minutes trying to tie it with her left hand, while holding the other ribbon-end with her teeth.

Finally, she succeeded. Test-drive time.

She walked a few steps away from the hat, and raised her hands to make the sign.

Ka-lunk – the wand slid out of the ribbon onto the floor.

Take Two – if she tied the ribbon around the wand first, and then her hand, would that work? Again the ordeal of one-handed knot tying – there.

Intention – sign – aim. The wand wobbled, and the energy dissipated – not enough control over the wand.

If the wand hung from her wrist, maybe she could make the sign, then flip the wand into her hand to hold it as usual, and direct the energy as it should go. Would that work?

She retied the ribbon.

Take Three. Intention – sign – ouch. The wand had whipped around with her hand motion, and nearly hit her in the eye, fortunately only hitting her forehead.

Not an option.

_Think, think_, she told herself while trying to undo the knot with her left hand. What if the wand were on her head, could she, say, use a head-nod to direct the energy?

The ribbon, wand still tied into it, went back onto her hat. Now wearing it, Cait looked around for a new object to practice on. Something light, that won't make noise if she dropped it – Penny hated being woken up early.

A writing quill. Perfect.

Intention – sign – aim – Ugh. A little of the energy got to the wand and moved the quill about an inch, but the rest of it gave her an instant headache.

What was she going to have to do? Glue that wand to her hand?

She flopped back onto her bed. Glue. Maybe there's a spell to make things stick to you. Maybe it could be installed into her wand the way flying spells are installed in brooms.

Grabbing her spellbook, she flipped through it. Nothing there.

In the meanwhile, maybe the ribbon idea could be improved. Elastic – that would be better, something she could slide on and off easily.

She could go to Margin Alley later and see what the dressmaker might have, Cait thought, as she removed the wand from her hat and retied the ribbon as it had originally been.

In the meanwhile, she needed as many signs as she could learn. When breakfast time rolled around, Penny awoke to find Cait still immersed in the old signing book with its red and blue "ABC" on the cover.

Chapter 4, part 2 -- A Visual Kinetic

Monday morning, as class began, Cait proudly showed off her version of "s'dar" to Ms. Corwin, her wand held in place by a wide elastic band.

"Oh my," said the visibly rattled teacher. "What an unusual solution you have devised. I believe our headmistress will be very interested in this."

Dismayed, Caitlin lowered her wand. No praise?

"That was very well done, however," added Corwin quickly. "It just happened to be rather unexpected. Usually, firstyear students don't have the magical power to pull off something like this. Tell me, where did you learn these signs you're using?"

"From my old school. They're the ones deaf people use for talking."

Corwin paled. "All the more reason for caution. Haven't you wondered why people use languages other than their everyday ones for spellcasting?"

"But wouldn't that be easier?"

Corwin shook her head. "Easier is not always a good idea. There are some very real dangers to having things be too easy sometimes."

The rest of the class had now arrived, and many of the students crowded nearby, trying to eavesdrop. Corwin looked around and cleared her throat. "Page 55, everyone; please review the spells listed there for tomorrow's halfterm exam."

She faced Cait again. "You should go demonstrate your discovery to Headmistress Lumen, exactly the way you just showed it to me. Her office is on the first floor of the Old House. You have a strong gift, and she'll want to see it firsthand." Corwin waved Cait toward the door. As Cait closed the classroom door behind her, she saw Corwin hand a scroll to a chipmunk, which immediately raced off with it.

As she walked across the courtyard and under Great Hall towards the Old House, Cait couldn't help feeling nervous – would she have to go off to some other school to study now? Or would they forbid her signing and make her use only words? Corwin said she had a gift – were there more classes that the firstyears hadn't yet been told about? Would she be stuck in with older students?

All too soon, the Headmistress' office was before her. As soon as the door opened, Lumen's sharp gaze caught Caitlin's eye, and made her feel as if she were under her aunt's old-fashioned round magnifying glass, analyzing and measuring her up in an instant. The office itself was a plain but comfortable space, full of interesting and carefully chosen antiques; their deep hues contrasting with the walls of white-painted plaster and pale pine tongue-in-groove paneling. A ship's compass stood alone in its own rosewood stand, waist-high; a large and flawless crystal ball lay cradled in shining brass on her oak desk. A glass-fronted bookcase of ancient-looking tomes occupied the wall behind her desk, and a beautiful carpet in vivid reds and blues lay underfoot. _A flying carpet?_ wondered Cait.

Lumen motioned Cait towards the ladderback chair in front of her desk. Cait wasn't sure who was supposed to talk first, and so she waited. It was a bright day; tree branches swayed in the wind on the other side of the diamond-paned windows.

Lumen finally spoke. "So, it appears that we have a visual kinetic among us," she stated. "How did your gift become apparent?"

Cait tried not to squirm. "I was trying to do a spell from Ms. Corwin's class."

Lumen shook her head, gave a negative hand-wave. "How was it discovered that you have magic?"

"I made a bus tire go flat."

Lumen's gaze was unrelenting. "Exactly how did you do that?"

"I got mad. A bunch of kids were teasing me" – her fist clenched at the memory – "and it went pop as soon as I did this." Cait demonstrated the fist to Lumen.

"I see." A pause. The gaze. "Other times you inadvertently did magic?"

What else could she tell her besides the gravel? That seemed so trivial. "There was one time when I wanted to get a songbird away from Nini – that's my cat at home – but I was too far away, and so I did like this" – her flat hand made a shooing motion in front of her – "and the bird got away from her paws, and Nini kept looking for it, but I could see that the bird was safe." Cait smiled at the memory, and then remembered where she was. Wait, was that a hint of a smile from Lumen?

"Very kinetic. Always with gesture," Lumen mused. "These things didn't happen with voice, you didn't shout or sing?"

Cait shook her head.

Lumen continued. "Most of our students use voice, and only sometimes gesture when they are untrained. That's very strong kinetics if you've not used voice, very strong." Lumen's gaze never wavered.

After a pause, she spoke again.

"Visual-Kinetic spellwork has its own methods. Whether to bring them into an ordinary class is a complicated issue, and you will later be receiving word about how to proceed. In the meanwhile, keep on with the ordinary class."

Lumen's gaze locked with Cait's.

"I understand that you sign a little," she said.

_How did she know that?_ wondered Cait.

"Please do not use your conversational signs for magic. It would risk trouble."

_More trouble than misunderstood and mispronounced spells? _

"Now I believe the rest of your spellcraft class awaits."

Recognizing the dismissal, Cait thanked the Headmistress and left the office with a sinking feeling. So, what was to happen now? What were these "other methods"? Would she now get _more_ lessons and more to study? And she wasn't even supposed to use all those signs that she had just relearned? Cait remembered how those fourth-grade Signed-English classes ate into her afterschool time, and hoped the Visual-Kinetic stuff wouldn't mess up broomsprinting with Meg.

As Cait walked into the classroom, exam review was apparently over, as nineteen voices were rehearsing a new spell written on the board, accompanied by the click of tapping wands.

A handful of black walnuts lay on each desk; at almost every wand tap, a perfectly split shell and a whole, naked nutmeat would result. Cait was surprised at how many nuts sat on people's desks, uneaten.

"We're gonna use this spell for the halfterm clambake," Penny informed Cait as she took her seat. "Imagine how much easier it'll be to eat lobster, and how much fun this'll be to show off! Bratty Bro will have to ask me _very_ nicely if he wants me to shell his food."

Corwin frowned as she read a small scroll at her desk; a chipmunk nearby was stuffing one of the newly shelled walnuts into its cheeks.

Looking up as Cait took her seat, Corwin's expression cleared. "Hello, Cait. Let me teach you this spell everyone's practicing – most useful for hard nuts, lobsters if you eat them, and for jewelry boxes with lost keys."

As she taught the spell, Corwin sounded out the words with more than her usual care; she appeared to want to say more, but only shook her head to Cait's inquiring look.

Over the next two weeks, chipmunks ran constantly back and forth, to and from the spellwork classroom, and Corwin went about with an exasperated expression.

On the Monday before halfterm, as Melendez drilled them on their pre-exam notes, Cait felt something nudge her foot. A chipmunk stood there waiting, with a scroll. Her pockets were still full of the black walnuts she loved; many of her classmates disliked the nut's distinctive flavor. She now gave the diminutive animal a shelled-out nut, and unrolled the scroll to read: "Please meet me at the spellwork classroom, 6 pm tonight, the chipmunk dashed off, excitement and hope fluttered inside Cait. Would that mean that she wouldn't be stuck trying to say things she couldn't?

She flew through her swimming with enough extra speed to garner scowls from Claire and grins from Penny, who no longer dogpaddled half her circuits.

As soon as she was back in her ordinary robes, she ran across the courtyard to the Spellwork classroom. Corwin sat at her desk, two books with shimmering green covers before her, and a triumphant look on her face.

"Shall we begin?" smiled Corwin. "You'll probably find these lessons quite a bit more enjoyable than fighting the letter "s" all the time. You'll spend these lessons learning the kinetic equivalents of spells we've learned thus far in class. After that, you'll be attending only the regular spellwork class, but will be learning the kinetic versions of the spells at the same time everyone else is learning the spoken versions. You were particularly needing help with 's'dar' – its kinetic version is like this," and Corwin's wand traced a sort of reversing double loop and aimed it at a dropped nut, which bounced back into a bowl on her desk.

As they practiced, Cait was delighted at how much easier all the spells suddenly became, rather like looking through a grimy window that had just been washed.

At the same time, she could not shake a creeping sense of annoyance – what good did having this kinetic gift do her, if it made her -- once more -- different from everyone else?

But she had to admit, it was a great deal of fun to zoom Corwin's whole tea set back to its shelf without spilling a drop, using this new version of the spell.

Corwin grinned and gestured at a full vase of flowers on the floor; Cait visualized the word 's'dar', visualized the desired path of travel, did the double-loop with her wand, and aimed the wand – off went the vase to its proper locale.

"So much better, Cait, brava!" The twinkle was back in Corwin's eye, and Cait felt as proud as she did during that perfect "lekh na" spell of her first spellwork class. "That's plenty for today, I'll see you again tomorrow at 6:00."

Cait skipped and did flying leaps all the way across the courtyard and up the Partridge Hall stairs to meet Meg – there was indeed plenty of time left for broomwork practice. Everything felt possible now!

Chapter 4, Part 3 – Halfterm at last.

The rest of the week flew by; the only glitch in that wonderful week arrived during Wednesday's Spellcraft class.

The extra flourishes in Cait's wandwork had caught Claire's attention, and her voice rang out, "wait a minute, how come _she's_ not doing this spell the normal way?"

Everybody in the class paused at the disruption. Cait lowered her wand, glaring at Claire's pointed finger.

Corwin sighed and regarded them. "Miss Delphine's rudeness aside, spoken-word isn't the only, or even necessarily the best way to spellcast. Our dorm doors, which you know so well, are example of that. Most witches have a strong affinity for words, therefore our spoken-word spells are the standard. Some witches, however, have stronger affinities for image and kinetics. Therefore the Visual-Kinetic technique which you see here. No lesser and no greater than the spoken spells, only different."

Corwin now addressed Claire directly. "A one-page essay on Visual Kinetics, please. Be prepared to read it to us next class."

Then she addressed the whole class again. "Speaking of visuals, shall we practice that visualization exercise on page 50?" And leftover walnut shells were soon tracing elaborate patterns in the air, as students paired off and sketched each others' walnut-shell flight patterns.

All day during the Friday of halfterm, restlessness pervaded classroom, library, and office. Nobody could concentrate for thinking of the night's clambake at the boys' school, the flying demonstration, tomorrow's Quodpot game, and the chance for students to finally see their families.

Alchemy class was the last one before halfterm, and as Cait concentrated on measuring the correct number of pokeberries into her cauldron of ink, Meg babbled on about how much she looked forward to impressing the boys with her new dress robes. Cait found it harder and harder to keep a straight face.

"My old robes were so little-kid it's embarrassing; it's so nice to finally get something that looks really grownup. You should see the things I left back in the house. Frills! Pink sparkle! No, this one's really beautiful, real changeable silk."

Cait could no longer keep from laughing; Penny snorted from behind the ink-vanishing spell she was reading.

"Dress robes to a _clambake_? They'll get full of sand and smell like fish! Save them for Saturday's banquet."

Penny leaned in. "I've figured out a way to kit up the robes so we can still look cute and show off what little tan some of us have," she said as she examined her ankles.

As soon as the bell rang, they were free to go – there was no swimming class that day.

Books were shoved into bags, feet ran for the door and to the courtyard – the first magical families had already arrived, and were socializing in the October sun while classes for the day finished up. From the direction of Old House, Ms. Greatwood appeared, shepherding a group of non-magical families.

"There's my folks!" yelled Cait, as she ran through the Academic-building's front door. "C'mon, Penny, you can meet my folks. I'm sure yours'll be here soon," she added. Penny sighed; Stu must have messed up travel plans yet again.

Meg was high-fiving her brother, who made a face and began mock-wrestling her. Her friend Violet chatted politely with Meg's parents, while toying with her many bracelets and looking about to see if her own folks had arrived yet.

Amanda sailed up to a cluster of blondes who looked as if every last one of them were models, right down to her baby sister.

But what was Cait's dad carrying? The domed wooded shape topped with screening – "You brought Nini?" panted Cait in surprise and delight, as she threw her arms around her parents.

"Please take this cat off our hands!" grinned her dad. "She's been making it very clear for weeks that she wants to be with you."

"Screen door replaced three times," sighed her mom. "Front hall thoroughly scratched up, cat in the car whenever either of us needs to go anywhere, yowling all night long. Figured at first that she missed you and would get over it in a couple of weeks. No such luck!"

"Listen to that animal! She's purring right through the carrier," her dad said, shaking his head as Cait opened the door and cuddled the ecstatic cat.

"Oh, Penny" – Cait turned to her friend. "These are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Penny, my roommate. Nini, don't you dare even think of sampling toad, d'ya hear me?"

Trays of hors d'oeuvres and of drinks floated about, offering themselves to everyone, announcing their contents whenever anyone reached for snack or glass. "Pumpkin brie!" "Avalon ale!" "Cobweb cookies!" Near the Great Hall staircase stood an inconspicuous door from which the trays appeared to be coming and going; two witches in short, pointed red hats monitored the trays as they came and went, sending out new ones with a flick of their wands and calling back the empty ones.

A familiar voice now boomed above the chatter. "Broomracers, please assemble at the pool, calling all broomracers!" Greengage stood by the door under Great Hall, hands on hips, regarding the crowd as more arriving families filled the courtyard.

"Hey, there's my folks now, nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Leo!" announced Penny as she took off.

Meg raced up to Cait's side, swinging a light punch at her arm to get her attention, and motioning towards Greengage.

"Gotta run, but you'll see me soon!" Cait bragged to her parents. "I'm one of the broomracers -- even with my balance. You'll see! Nini, don't fuss – I can't take you along on the broom now, but you _will _be living with me here." Cait sprinted to her dorm, threw her bookbag on the bed, and ran back out to the courtyard, waving to her parents as she sprinted to Great Hall. They were now in conversation with Greatwood, and Cait wondered how everyone was going to get to the clambake.

Twenty-one students were gathered at the pool. The usual boats awaited them on the double-currented river, but this time they traveled in the other direction, and the trip was shorter. The cavern ceiling opened up onto the edge of a manicured lawn that swept up to a handsome mansion surrounded by trees. Beyond the rusty oak foliage, the ocean was visible. The clear sky and calm air were so perfect for flying that Cait wondered if the weatherworkers had been busy making it so.

As they crossed the lawn towards the water, carrying their brooms, Meg bubbled with excitement. "My brother has no idea that we've been practicing – I haven't even told him we're in the demonstration. Bet we'll top that Amanda yet!"

A crew of plain-robed people were setting up the beach for the clambake; there were driftwood logs the right size for sitting, lots of cushions, and small tables everywhere. Smoke drifted up from a pile of seaweed in the middle of the beach, and Cait's stomach rumbled at the aroma. She knew that all kinds of wonderful food lay under that seaweed, piled up in green-swathed layers, cooking slowly atop the coals which lined the bottom of the sandy pit.

Off in the water, a pair of kayakers were enchanting sets of glow-globes and ribbons to form lanes, parallel to the beach.

"Those are your race courses," announced Greengage. "We will go in order of your classes, firstyears, then secondyears, then thirdyears. You will each get to do one practice run before we race for real. And remember, cheating and jinxing will not be tolerated."

She rocked on her heels as she swept her gaze over all of them, then led them to a dock at the left side of the beach. With a start, Cait realized that this was the same beach where they'd picknicked after disembarking the _Schoodic_ – she could now see the path they'd taken to the bus, snaking around behind where the mansion stood, screened by trees.

At the end of the dock, Greengage beckoned to Meg, Cait, and Amanda. As they took the marked starting places and mounted their brooms, the kayakers raised their arms in unison; a shimmering red finish line hovered at the end of the floating lanes.

Greengage's voice sounded clear behind them. "On the count of three you go. One … two … three!"

It felt marvelous to be skimming over the water, at the finish line before she expected, barely behind Amanda, Meg in third place.

Amanda snorted, "That was just warmup." They flew back to the dock to watch the other racers.

Cait noticed that the finish line was further away for the secondyears, and higher up. For the thirdyears, it was still further and higher yet again. Other boaters were now filling the water, close enough for a good view, but staying clear of the marked lanes.

People were assembling on the beach as well – Cait guessed that they were students and faculty of BWIS. She turned her attention back to the broompractice. Now that the thirdyears had finished, the lanes had disappeared. What were the upper-level students going to demonstrate?

To her right, a group of black-robed figures caught her eye; students from the boys' school were filling the end of the dock, brooms in hand, also watching the girls' practice. Beside her, Meg eyed them with interest. Overhead, all twelve of the upperclass students gathered into formation. In perfect unison, they took off in a long line, forming a giant circle ferris-wheel style, completing three full revolutions. On cue, they split into two groups of six flyers each, a ball appeared from nowhere, and they began a demonstration of their best broomball maneuvers. They flew around in every direction imaginable as they kept the ball in volley, looking like a cross between trapeze artists and hockey players.

Ten of the players now flew off, five to each side, hovering as two seniors continued the volley, flying and volleying faster and faster until the ball became nothing but a blur, and then it all of a sudden burst into a rainbow firework as the seniors joined the other flyers, and they all formed the ferris-wheel circle one more time before landing on the dock.

Everybody present burst into applause, the boys looking impressed, Cait was pleased to note. Greengage was now shaking hands with a curly-haired man with a deep tan.

"Everyone is to now stay on the dock," he now announced to all the broomriders, "the program will be beginning as soon as we have our audience." Sure enough, parents, siblings, and students from both schools were filling the beach, chattering, and adjusting their seats for the best view.

The water was mixed shades of lavender, bottle-green, and periwinkle; the golden glow of late-afternoon sun slanted from behind the trees. Holding a hand to the sky, Cait gauged that there was about one and a half hours of daylight left, and she worried about how much light would remain if the boys went first.

On the beach, people settled down and appeared to be listening; a podium had been set up, and Cait could see Headmistress Lumen standing there, waiting as a very thin man with a short white beard addressed the crowd. Neither speech was decipherable. Lumen's speech was shorter than his, and then the crowd turned to watch the dock. Greengage nudged the SWI flyers to their feet. Applause arose from the audience, and the lanes were going up. Cait felt giddy and her legs shook – would she even be able to fly? She was more nervous than she could ever remember being.

Then the lanes were ready, the three of them ready to start. The signal from Greengage – and she was off with the others, as surely as if she'd never had a moment of trouble flying.

Then there was a quick movement ahead of her – Amanda's sleeve fluttered, Cait's vision blurred, and she found herself immersed in the waves, spitting out salt water and clutching her broom. A kayaker zipped over and pulled her aboard.

"What happened?" sputtered Cait. "I was flying just fine!"

"Daydark powder," answered the kayaker through tight lips, looking furious. "The girl's claiming she forgot the stuff was in her sleeve pocket."

Overhead, Cait could see Amanda flying back to dock with an insufferable smirk. Without thinking, Cait signed "I hate you" double-handed – and couldn't believe her luck when Amanda started, yelped, "Ow!", lost her balance and tumbled into the water.

The kayaker who rescued Cait raised her eyebrows and whistled. "Nice trick, that. Better not do that in front of officials during competition, though; it'll get you disqualified." She signaled to the other kayaker to retrieve the surprised and seething Amanda.

During the ride back to the dock, chill fear gripped Cait's gut and her head swam: did she just make Amanda fall off her broom by signing "I hate you"? _What if her wand had been in her hand?_ Visions of the exploding apple arose in her mind, and she shivered. Corwin and Lumen's advice to not use her conversational Sign for spellwork made sudden, terrible sense. _What would have happened to Amanda if Cait's wand had been in hand when she had signed that? _

Cait shivered and shook as she climbed out of the kayak and accepted the blanket which the boys' coach threw over her shoulders, as he kept a worried gaze on her. Greengage glanced over from where she pep-talked the thirdyear racers; Cait made an "I'm OK, I'm OK" wave in the direction of both coach and Greengage as she sat at the beach end of the dock to huddle under the blanket and gather her wits about her.

Meg also hung back with a concerned look; Cait waved at her, "Go on, go ahead."

Who was really going to understand _this_? Did other Visual-Kinetics even know how to sign? It wasn't fair – her lovely signs that worked so well – _too_ well. She pushed the fear to the back of her mind, and waited until the shivering stopped. Then she put down the blanket, and stood up to go enjoy the clambake.

But as Cait regarded the crowd, she felt tired and overwhelmed; how was she going to find her folks?

Then she felt something bump her shin.

"Aow – woo." That loud voice from her feet – Nini looked up at the still-soggy Cait, then trotted among the crowded beach, tail high, leading Cait to her parents. Penny also sat there, trying to explain that Cait's flying was usually so much better, really!

On Penny's other side, Ms. Dingle surveyed Cait's wet robe, and with a quick word and wandwave, removed the cold water from the fabric.

It felt wonderful to sit, warm up, and admire everyone else's broomwork – and to pretend that she was as normal as the other students. The boys' flying was as impressive as that of the girls, and some of the boys rather good-looking, too, especially the older ones.

In an attempt to erase exploding-apple thoughts from her mind, Cait ate more than her share of the corn, lobsters, clams, mackerel and baked potatoes which emerged from under that heap of seaweed which had smelled so appetizing earlier. There were even pots of bean-hole beans emerging from the very bottom of the seaweedy pit, bottoms of the pots glowing red in the dark as they floated around the beach, offering themselves to anybody still hungry. They were then followed by a series of pies: apple, squash, mincemeat, custard.

This time, their plates were of a translucent pearly stuff. Cait guessed that they might be shell, and was proven right when her surprised dad went to pick his plate up for a second piece of pie and found only a mussel shell where his plate had been.

"Hey Dad, watch Momma's plate when she puts it down," advised Cait, and all of them marvelled to watch the plate transform into shell once it was no longer needed.

When everyone was stuffed full of clambake and pie, it was fully dark, and a spectacular set of fireworks crowned the evening's events.

Then it was time to pile aboard the waiting busses which delivered parents to the hotels and houses of downtown Salem, and students back to SWI.

Everyone was encouraged to sleep in the next day. Halfterm exams were over, the fireworks had gone late into the evening, and brunch wouldn't be served until 11:00. Of course, Meg, Violet, Cait and Penny had stayed up extra late, lounging in front of the Partridge Hall fireplace, gabbing about which of the BWIS boys were the cutest and which were the best broomriders. Broomriding, however, brought up the topic of Cait's tumble, prompting a spirited discussion of sending the Magenta Trio to various other schools, preferably overseas.

"Well Elsbeth's nowhere near as awful as you think she is," huffed Violet, stomping off to her room.

"Look what her friends do!" retorted Meg to her retreating back. "Amanda ruined our flying demonstration!" Cait tried to not think of what she so easily could have done to Amanda.

Then they tried to cheer Meg up by speculating about the location of Saturday's Quodpot game, until nobody could stay awake any longer. Despite her fears, with the happily purring Nini curled up against her ankles, Cait slept better than she could remember sleeping all semester.

At brunchtime, the non-magical families were again escorted onto the SWI grounds by Greatwood. The meal's highlight were the self-heating frying pans that floated about Great Hall, trailed by eggs that needed only a simple Shell-out spell before they fried themselves, became omelets, or scrambled themselves. There were travelling stacks of pancakes as well, followed by miniature sap-buckets of maple syrup, baskets of home-fried potatoes with onion, and several flying schools of smoked fish. Great Hall was still too noisy to easily converse, even with the help of Cait's trumpetvine, but it was quite fun to watch her parents' faces as they took in the flying platters and bowls of food.

Once they were settled in with their food, the Leos accustomed themselves quickly to the trumpetvine, and Cait told them all about her classes and the things she was learning to do. She talked up how great she was doing in Spellwork and how much she loved Astronologia, leaving out the inconvenient details of Visual-Kinetic tutoring and Ms. Pitt's incomprehensible lectures.

"If only I could take home one of those coffeepots," sighed her mom, as a silver pot rushed over to refill the cup she had just finished drinking.

"See Miri, sending Cait here's not such a bad thing, eh?" laughed her dad, and Cait resolved to find out if any magic _was_ allowed at home during school breaks.

Soon, it was afternoon, and the Leos, Dingles, and Ainslees sat on the turf of the school courtyard, enjoying the last bit of summery weather. The Leos had taken a quick walk around the Salem downtown after brunch, and Cait was very pleased that she could let them in via the front gate without mishap.

Meg and Merle now discussed the season's Quiddich lineup, after having completely confused the Leos while trying to explain the game. Nearby, the Ainslees were explained some of the fine points of spellwork for taming unruly boys to Mrs. Dingle, while Stu pulled at the very-firmly planted courtyard groundcover.

Cait had been assuring her parents that Quodpot was the game they'd actually be watching that day, and that its rules were much less complicated than that of Quiddich, when the word "signers" struck her ears. Seattle Signers? Did she hear right?

Cait's pulse beat in her throat as she turned to Merle. "Whoah, did I hear you say something like 'Seattle Signers'?"

"Signers? Where did you get that?" Merle pulled a face. "We're talking about the Seattle Spiders. This team usually stays on the West Coast, but there are rumors that they're coming out east for a few games this year."

Cait cursed her hearing – she was getting too obsessed with this signing thing, if "spider" sounded like "signer" when there wasn't even that much background noise.

"I haven't yet seen them play," continued Merle, "but will make sure you and Penny get tickets when we get ours!"

Cait agreed, figuring that it would be a fun excursion even if they weren't "signers".

On Cait's other side, Penny elbowed her and moaned, "My senior year is doomed."

Cait followed Penny's gaze over to where Stu triumphantly stood next to somebody's unattended broom. "Up!" he commanded in his high, clear voice, and the broom actually rose, bristle end still on the ground, broom handle hovering in the air.

"Aren't you glad SWI is for girls only?" she told Penny. "Those old founders have no idea how smart they really were."

When the busses brought everyone to Winter Island, Cait figured that the game would be over the water, and she was especially glad to see the _Schoodic_ at dock.

"Dad!" she cried. "You'll get to finally be on a big schooner!"

Smaller craft of all kinds surrounded the _Schoodic_. Many of the upper-class students were eager to show off newly-acquired sailing and weatherworking skills, and several sloops bearing proud students and their relations were already setting out to sea, disappearing behind the hump across the harbor that was Marblehead. There were a few two-masted schooners as well, carrying faculty members and red-hatted school staff. A surprising number of canoes and kayaks were paddling around the Marblehead peninsula as well – to the open sea?

Cait wondered if the larger vessels would soon have to come to the rescue of those smaller craft. She insisted on staying abovedeck as they boarded, so that she could watch those canoes and see what would happen. Her dad was glad to do likewise, while her mom elected to stay below and continue her conversation about gardening with Mrs. Dingle. "You can charm slugs off tomatoes too? Just like my in-laws! How do you do that? Are you allowed to tell?"

As Cait stood side-by-side with her dad, watching the canoes and kayaks, she wondered how much he would understand about spoken-word spells versus Sign versus Visual Kinetics. And if her great-aunts May and Joyce were more like the "normal" witches around her … or more like Cait.

"So, how _did_ great-aunt Joyce make the garden behave?" she asked.

"Different ways," he shrugged. "Sometimes she sang to the plants, sometimes she did things with her hands. And she was always looking at calendars, had them all over the house." He looked over at Cait. "She was just country skills, though. Never had all the formal training which you're getting right now." Then he told Cait a couple of Aunt May ghost stories as the ship left harbor, and they continued to eye the smaller craft.

The canoes held their own in the ocean water until they were out of harbor and out of eyeshot from Marblehead. Then, one by one, they began to lift out of the water and to fly alongside the _Schoodic_, the smaller schooners, and the sloops.

There was now a peculiar shape looming large on the horizon – a cruise ship? A tanker?

As they drew closer, the shape turned out to be a floating stadium, two sets of bleachers mounted onto barges. The ocean was suspiciously calm, and Cait figured that the weatherworkers had seen to this, too.

One set of bleachers was draped in the blue, black and silver of SWI, and the other in the green and orange of the Ecole des Sorcieres de Quebec. Their team was the Maenads, and their ship, a handsome 18th-century squarerigger, lay at anchor at the other end of the stadium. The goal markers were already set up, hovering in the air, as both teams went through their warm-ups.

The _Schoodic_ pulled up to the blue/black/silver-draped bleachers, a ramp unfolded, and everyone piled off, finding seats, and pulling pompoms, streamers, and tall hats with flashing lights out of sleeves, hems, and apparently thin air.

By the end of the Quodpot game, Cait decided that this sport wasn't really any more interesting than ordinary football, although it was rather fun watching the ball explode into the water during the first goal. Better than watching it explode into somebody. She did, however, enjoy watching the fans in the flying canoes, and she envied their overhead view, watching them adjust their heights from time to time for a better look. The canoes looked easier to maneuver than brooms, and Cait hoped that she didn't have to wait too long to find out what flying in one was like.

Once the game was over – Maenads jubilant, Amazons downcast – the boats all headed back to town and the evening's banquet.

This time, Great Hall was full of crystal-cased candle flames, silver streamers that snaked themselves around the room, catching flashes of light along the way, and lengths of blue and black silk draped through the rafters. The diners looked equally impressive. By now, all of the firstyear students had received their dress robes, which blended beautifully with the formal wear of the non-magical families.

Halfway through some of the best roast beef and new potatoes Cait had ever tasted, Penny nudged her, a conspiratorial look on her face. A cupped hand at her mouth, she signed to Cait, "your glass – empty? Over here!" Cait leaned in. "Shh," said Penny verbally, "I've been waiting to show this off." She pulled a small bottle from her pocket and poured a pale gold liquid into Cait's glass, then some into her own.

Checking that their parents were still deep in conversation with each other, then keeping eye contact with Cait, Penny raised her glass slightly, and said, "To the class of 2014! Don't you dare stop at hedge level – I plan to do all seven years and want you there, too!"

Penny downed her glass, and Cait followed with caution; it fizzed on her tongue, and reminded her of the beer her uncle had let her try, but the flavor was all wrong. "Wine! Penny, how'd you pull that off?"

Triumphant, Penny looked over at the grownups again and told Cait, "That first Greenwitchery class – remember the mess? That was Broadleaf's self-fermenting grape. I smuggled some of the juice the same way you made all that water fly up to the shelf. Got a cutting to plant, too. Cheers!"

"You're bad," admired Cait, not sure she really liked her friend's use of Cait's spellworking flub-ups, but enjoying the result all the same.

Tortes and coffeepots soon flew around the room. The Headmistress gave a speech that was indecipherable to Cait, but seemed to be understood by everyone else, and then people filtered out the room, down the curving stairs into the starry night. Families with long trips home the next day hugged, waved goodbye, and promised to send letters and care packages.

Some of the magical families were now pulling on travel cloaks, shouldering overnight bags, and mounting brooms. Nighttime darkness, plus judicious use of Daydark, made night the best time to broomride without attracting unwanted attention.

Caitlin's parents prepared to set out for the Pike the next day, after making sure that Nini's catbox, plenty of litter, and a large sack of Nini's food were safely stowed in Cait's room. Right away, Cait decided to relocate the catbox to the shared bathroom down the hall, and was very pleased to note that their dormroom door had a catflap. Had that been there before? She was especially glad of the mobility spells they had been practicing all semester – no need to actually use the scoop that hung from one side of the catbox.

Once again, it felt good to drift off to sleep with the feel of Nini's purr thrumming against her ankle, while Nick sat safely inside his now-encloseable terrarium.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5, Part 1 – Extended family‎

Chapter 5, Part 1 – Extended family

After watching the Palisade Pounders versus SWI Amazons, Cait agreed with Meg that Quiddich was much more fun and interesting than Quodpot.

"Wow, I want to fly like that Seeker," dreamed Cait as she refilled her oatmeal bowl at breakfast a week later. The weather had just turned cold, and iron pots of old-fashioned Irish porridge whisked directly out the kitchens towards those sitting down to eat. Cait felt a rush of happiness as she looked at the friends sharing her table. Take that, old public school, where she'd always eaten alone while other cliques gave her strange looks and gossiped behind their hands.

Cait continued. "He was flying just like this" – whip, whip, whip, she demonstrated with a zigzag motion of her spoon.

"Stop, you're throwing oatmeal!" protested Meg. "Yeah, that was a good game! Just wait until you see the pros play."

Cait dug into her oats, made a face, then reached for the butter. At her feet, Nini head-butted Cait's shin for her share. As Cait put a saucer of buttered oats onto the floor for her cat, a thought struck her. "Do Seekers get to be in broom races too?"

Meg shook her head as she sectioned her neatly Shell-out-spelled orange. "Not really possible to do both. Quiddich and racing both go on all year, and it's really hard to get enough practice space for both teams, so whenever the space can be found, they double up the teams on it. It's really crazy how they arrange it so that the racers and the players don't collide during practice."

"And we have to wait all year until we get to do any of it at all," grumped Cait as she finished off her oatmeal, then watched Meg polish off her orange and begin nibbling the empty peel.

"You're way too hungry, girl," remarked Penny, reaching for a fourth cup of tea as she stared.

Meg shrugged. "They put the peels into marmalade, don't they? Why not eat it?"

Just then, Nini jumped onto Cait's lap, saucer eyes fixed on the nearest window, as a brown falcon flew in bearing a letter, which it dropped at Meg's place. Cait gently restrained the distracted cat as Meg exclaimed, "Good work! Thank you, Bosso, and you can send a hello to big bro for me," as she stroked the bird gently on the chest. Feeling the envelope, Meg grinned. "Betcha 2 Quiller it's our Quiddich tickets!"

"What else would it be? Open up!" chorused Cait and Penny.

Meg ripped the envelope open. "Fitchburg Finches versus Seattle Spiders, home game, November 17. Woohoo!"

"How do we get there?" asked Cait.

"Let's make off with some school brooms and surprise your folks," suggested Penny with glowing eyes.

"Only if you figure out how to undo that spell that's on the school brooms when we're not in class," pointed out Meg. "Besides, my cousin Louise, the famous pro weatherworker, is coming to pick us up."

The clanging of the first bell of the day cut into their conversation. Nini jumped to the floor, hawk momentarily forgotten as Cait and Penny gathered up bookbags and grabbed final bits of breakfast.

"Hold up for me!" shouted Meg, as she wrote a quick reply to her brother, and sent the falcon off home. Gathering up her books, she reminded Penny and Cait, "Get your parents to give you permission to go off campus – you gotta have their notes to leave! Don't forget!" Cait and Penny promised, then they all ran off to class.

Spellwork class was going much better now. Corwin seemed to spend an awful lot of time beaming at Cait, and it was quite fun having the spells work so well, although the method of wand-the-word-then-aim still felt clumsy and roundabout. She preferred signing the spells directly, and continued to study her ASL vocabulary outside class.

One morning, as she reviewed her sign vocabulary, the sign for "water" reminded her of the "mayim" incident. That might be a useful skill; could she do it on purpose? Her glance fell on the plant on her windowsill; it was her Greenwitchery homework. She had again forgotten to water it – mints were greedy when it came to water. The leaves were now transforming into little daggers, which happened whenever the plant got thirsty. She checked the mug on her desk. Yup, there was water inside.

Slipping the elastic band onto her hand, she put the wand into place and gathered her intent. Then she signed the "w" handshape, sweeping off her chin and towards the mug – success! The water picked itself up, a crystalline globe in the sunlight, and poured itself right into the thirsty soil. After a moment, the plant's sharp leaves unfolded into their usual shape, and Cait could almost hear it scolding her. "About time you did that, missy!" Ugh, she hadn't realized that one could Mindread a _plant_. Could one?

From then on, she used this spell to keep Nini's water bowl full and the plant watered. It was nice to not get so many pinpick stabs from those daggery leaves whenever she wanted to open the window.

Soon, the weather turned cool, and it was time for the Halloween banquet. Cait, Penny, and Meg had rigged up wreaths of flaming maple leaves to wear on their student caps, and the school bats were given full permission to fly about the rafters of Great Hall. Cait loved watching the bats' erratic flight, but wasn't as fond of the jack o'lanterns that lit the hall – they, too, moved about, and the shifting light threw Caitlin completely off balance. As they took their seats, more pumpkins appeared – these contained pumpkin-apple soup, followed by colorful gourd ladles for dipping it out.

Throughout the meal, Penny sniffled and didn't seem her usual self. In answer to Cait's look of concern, she answered, "It's the annual Thin-Veil Social tonight, after dinner."

"What's that mean?" puzzled Cait.

"We get to talk with the dead." Penny said, momentarily interrupted as pies and hot cider began their rounds of Great Hall. Cait's mind reeled during the pause_. Talk with dead people? Did Penny really say that? _

Once equipped with dessert, Cait asked, "Did I hear you right? You really can talk with the dead?"

Penny sniffled and nodded. "It's an upper-level mindcasting technique, but easiest to do on Halloween. My mom always visits the great-aunts and uncles and her gramma then, and she told me all about how SWI does it too." She brightened a little. "Would you come along with me? Ghosts like meeting new people, and they hate it when everyone just sits and cries. Maybe if you're there, I won't cry too much."

Ghosts? What was she getting into? Cait didn't really welcome the thought. Then it struck her: of course! Penny's grandmother – "I'll go with you."

Both of the Great Hall fireplaces were lit due to the sudden onset of cold weather in the last week. As people finished their desserts, some left for the dorms, while others began to congregate at the fireplaces.

"I haaate my homework," groaned Meg as she got up to go. "Good luck Thin-Veiling! Rescue me when you get back to the dorm. I have no idea how I'm ever gonna pass Greenwitchery. I can't even imagine getting to Hedge level."

Penny scanned the clusters of people heading towards the two Great Hall fireplaces. "Mom told me to look for orange hats," she informed Cait. Sure enough, some of the upperclass students and several teachers wore orange versions of their usual caps and tall hats and now stood at the two fireplaces, awaiting the beginning of the Thin-Veil Social.

Penny and Cait got up from their places and headed over to the less-crowded of the two fireplaces. Their Mindcasting instructor, Ms. Auclair, stood nearby, supervising the proceedings. Around them, people were clustering in twos and threes with the orange-capped mediums. Soon, the clusters contained three, four or even five figures, the newcomers silver and blurry as if seen through a scrim, but otherwise looking like regular people.

An alabaster-complexioned upperclasser now caught their eye, and the girls walked over to her. Her hat had the slightly-flared brim that those past Hedge level earned, in contrast to the Hedge-and-unders' brimless hats. "Who do you want to call over?"

"My grandmother, Penelope White," said Penny in a low, nervous voice. She looked pale and trembly. Cait put a hand on her arm, although she herself had no idea what to expect, and Nick gave a reassuring ribbit from his usual spot within the folds of Penny's hood.

The orange-capped girl smiled. "I'll call over Penelope White, then." She closed her eyes, and began singing a chant which Penny apparently knew, as she joined in after a few notes, but then stopped – was Penny supposed to be singing too? The girl motioned for Penny to keep chanting, and soon, another silvery figure took form before them, gaining shape and details gradually, like watching a print develop in a darkroom. A smiling, short, round woman in a voluminous cloak stood before them. Penny gasped and choked down a sob.

Cait could see a dim glint of something at the old woman's throat of a very familiar shape – a trumpetvine! No wonder Penny was so good at not mumbling and always remembered to face Cait when she talked. It had taken lots of nudging to get Meg to understand those things.

The woman looked around, and nodded. "So, Great Hall still looks just as it did when I was here. Well, Penny, how do you like SWI? Are you happy here? And just who is this?" she asked, now peering at Cait.

"Oh, Gramma, I'm so glad I can see you! SWI is going great, I like my classes so much, and this is my roommate, Cait." Cait waved at her, supposing a handshake might not work. Penny continued, "Cait's never visited with ghosts before, and we get along great, although she has a cat and I was so afraid she'd eat Nicky, but they're OK with each other now."

"It sounds like magical life agrees with you," chuckled the old witch.

"Oh, and your wand is working just fine for me, no problem at all …" and as Penny continued her conversation with her Gramma, Cait abandoned the effort to understand the speech among the hubbub of all the chattering voices. At first, she simply enjoyed watching the school bats swooping and fluttering overhead, then looked around at the rest of the room. Great Hall was now as full of people as it had been during the banquet, only half of them were silvery shimmering shades. The ocean of indecipherable babble washed over her, along with the lights of the still wandering jack o'lanterns. Why, this was nowhere near as creepy or scary as she thought it would be – it was just another kind of family reunion!

A raised voice to Cait's right cut through the congenial chatter.

"What do you _mean_, you can't bring him over?" Unfortunately, not all of the reunion was going smoothly. Cait had to grab her trumpetvine, which swung over to this new noise, to keep it from making her look like a blatant eavesdropper.

"But he's _my_ dad and I miss him!" stormed an upperclass girl as tears flowed down her face.

"I'm sorry," said the orange-hatted girl with her, as Auclair hurried over. "Not all spirits want to be pulled back from the otherworld, and we should not force them to if they don't want it."

"But doesn't he miss us? How could he not want to come over?" whimpered the girl as Auclair took her off to a quieter corner.

After about half an hour, many of the shades were noticeably dimmer and more blurred. Cait turned her attention back to Penny and Penelope; the alabaster-complexioned girl had long ago gone to call up shades for other students. Penelope, too, was becoming dim and blurry.

"The otherworld is pulling me back now, dear," she told Penny. "Don't worry, and don't cry! We will have other visits, so bye for now!"

"G'bye, love you, Gramma!" shouted Penny as the old woman vanished; she was smiling, but Cait could also see tears on her face.

Chapter 5, part 2 -- A broomball surprise

Classes continued as usual until the morning of November 16th. As soon the schedule-bearing crow awoke them, Cait and Penny both remembered the Fitchburg game, and jumped up from bed, yelling, "Game day!" "Field trip!" "Woohoo!" The startled bird, accustomed to sleepy protests, flew frantically around the room, dropping their scrolls on the floor before escaping via the window birdflap. Cait remembered Nini and looked for the cat – did the anti-predation spell still hold? It did – Nini sat by Cait's wardrobe, ears still back, tip of her tail flicking back and forth. The cat was annoyed, but obedient.

"You'll get to go hunting soon, promise," Cait told the sullen cat.

Despite the fact that it was a Wednesday-Friday, and they were stuck on campus until Astronologia, the buoyant mood continued. Broomwork was especially fun, although Cait took more than her usual share of falls while trying to imitate Meg's renditions of favorite Quiddich moves of the Fitchburg Finches.

At long last, Astronologia class was over, and they could hand in their star charts, grab bags and familiars, and head for the Partridge Hall roof. It was a clear, calm night, but chilly – the three girls shivered as they put on their cloaks and hoped Louise wouldn't be late. From Penny's hood came a soft burbling sound. "Nicky's telling us it's gonna be great flying weather," announced Penny as she reached back to stroke the toad.

Cait saw it first – there was movement in the air, a sort of ripple, no more of a shimmer in the dark sky, darkness against darkness. There was no object there that they could see, however. But there was a definite and deliberate motion approaching them. As the amorphous dark-against-dark shimmer crossed the boundary of the school's airspace, the darkness peeled away, and a canoe emerged onto the rooftop, steered by a willowy blonde woman who had one hand on the boom of a pale gray sail. She set the canoe down lightly on the roof, jumped out of it, and embraced Meg.

"Baby sis, you're a real witch now! How do you like Salem? Sorry I couldn't get away to see you at halfterm. Hello, these must be Penny and Cait, yes? So good to meet you, I'm Louise."

Meg looked disappointed. "We don't get to broomride?" Cait was amazed that Meg didn't protest being called "baby sis."

"Meggie, you're still a newbie! Can't have you pitching overboard halfway there 'cuz you've never flown so far, can we? Besides, you haven't even learned night-flying yet. OK, you all have your stuff?" Louise nodded in the direction of Nini. "A sit-spell for this one would be in order, I think. Won't do any harm – the cat won't feel like doing anything but sitting and watching until we get there. Much safer than if she gets tempted into trying to catch some bird or bat while we're flying over, no? May I?"

Cait nodded approval, the spell was said, and Nini placidly curled up onto her lap as everyone got into the canoe and settled themselves.

"Shamaya!" called Louise, and the canoe lifted up into the night. Louise then spoke an unfamiliar spell, full of fluid syllables, and a breeze now filled the sail, sending them westward over roofs and roads. Almost immediately, Louise began pitching Daydark powder around them to keep them invisible from nonmagical eyes, making it hard to enjoy the birdseye view. Once away from town, however, the disguising substance was not needed, and Cait drank in the moonlit landscape of rolling hills and shimmering rivers as well as bright highways carrying their mechanical rivers of cars. She and Meg eagerly took in the view, but Penny shook her head and looked uneasy; at a glance, Louise sent some Soothe-Sea her way.

As long as nobody sat up suddenly, there was no danger of people's heads hitting the sail's boom, and Louise set up a relay of shoulder taps to alert them whenever she did need to adjust the sail. Cait felt sorry for Meg – it took a real effort for the bubbly girl to not be able to enthuse out loud about this late-night adventure. For Cait, however, not being able to talk out loud made a nice break from the attentive listening she had to do all day long, every day, in order to understand people.

After about an hour of flying, there was one more burst of Daydark powder around the canoe; they had arrived in town. Cait could feel the canoe begin to descend, then the Daydark lifted – they were landing in a backyard ringed with trees and and overlooking a river; a lit-up house full of Ainslees awaited their arrival.

"Come in, come in," called Mrs. Ainslee, giving Meg and Louise big hugs as they jumped out of the boat and stepped onto the back porch. "There's hot soup inside, and there's no doubt it's been much too long since some of you ate. Step in, step in, don't worry; we'll make sure all your stuff gets inside, bathroom's down the hall to the right, put your cloaks wherever you like."

Now that food was mentioned, Cait was starving. Mrs. Ainslee continued the torrent of chatter as they entered the house.

"Penny, Cait, good to see you. Get yourselves inside, we'll gab later. Oh, what a beautiful cat! What's your name? What a good cat you are." Nini half-closed her eyes and purred as Mrs. Ainslee stroked her chin. She now addressed Cait. "Don't worry – you may remember that we do have a dog, but he's cooped up right now, and he does know how to get along with cats. If he forgets, we have a spell for that." She gave the cat one more pat, and made her way to the stove with its pot of soup, again addressing everyone. "Sit anywhere you like, just put your bags over here and have a seat. Merle, don't forget to stow and cover the boat! Now all of you go sit, eat, the soup's getting cold, and you shouldn't go hungry! Penny, after you eat, you'll have to tell me how your mom's getting along with that handful of a little brother of yours. Cute, but my oh my, he gets all over the place, doesn't he?" She began ladling out soup, handing out bowls to the closest Ainslees, and motioning for Cait, Meg and Penny not to help, to sit down already and start eating.

Cait could see where Meg got her gift of gab. Penny's expression as she glanced at Cait and started in on her soup made it clear that Stu was the last thing she wanted to discuss.

The next morning's weather was gray, and Cait worried that they would get rained out as everyone boarded the Ainslee canoes at their tiny backyard dock.

"Don't worry about rain, Cait," soothed Meg as she stepped into the front of their canoe, and stowed her favorite Brindisi banner carefully at her feet. "It hardly ever rains on a game day. Now there was one time that there was hail, but that turned out to be a weather hex gone wrong because one witch tried to make a celebratory snow flurry happen whenever there was a goal, only she got the spell wrong. And if the weather's iffy, the town's wizard Council sends two weatherworkers to divert the worst of it downriver. They haven't had to cancel a game since I was little."

Under a giant maple to the left of the house, Cait could see the flick of Nini's tail as the cat crouched there, staring at something under the porch. Nini had spent breakfast time prowling the backyard, and she had already presented Cait with one dead mole as everybody prepared to leave for the game. As Cait shuddered, Mrs. Ainslee admired the mole, patted Nini, and began to describe the troublesome gnome that had just shown up in their back yard. Cait had no doubt that the feisty cat would get the best of that intruder by the time the Quiddich game was over.

Cait now stepped into the canoe, with Penny following. Merle already sat in the back, as he was steering. Louise, her parents, and a wizard friend from two houses over shared another canoe, steered by Mrs. Ainslee. Cait looked about the inside of the canoe as they settled in; there was no sign of the sail which had propelled them to Fitchburg last night. The two canoes now loaded, Merle and Mrs. Ainslee looked about to make sure everyone was ready, then nodded at each other. As they raised paddles in unison, a current began to flow under their canoes and carry then against the river's natural flow – the game's location was upstream. Meg leaned back from the front of the canoe, turning to address Cait and Penny. "You do have to paddle, even with this spell. Still gotta Hide in Plain Sight! Just follow me – Cait, you paddle on the left whenever I paddle on the right and vice versa. Penny, you copy me exactly."

For about ten minutes, the ride was pleasantly uneventful, with other canoes, rowboats, and even rafts joining them from time to time in their upstream journey.

Then a white wall of water arose before them – a waterfall! How were they going to paddle over _that_? Cait glanced over her shoulder towards the back of the canoe. Merle, however, only grinned at Cait's look of dismay. With a quick look around to make sure no muggles were nearby, he turned the canoe sideways to the current, intoned a quick spell, and the canoe lifted itself to the top of the falls, and the other Ainslee canoe followed.

Two waterfalls later, Cait was beginning to enjoy this method of boating. In front of her, Meg's chatter continued in its usual way, although Cait had no idea what she was saying. Apparently, however, Penny did, as there were occasional replies from behind her.

The river was now crowded with small craft, and they traveled much more slowly. Meg's voice raised a few decibels, and Cait could finally understand her. "Hey, we're almost here! Boy is that a lot of people – shows what happens when they drag in a team from the west coast for once."

Cait looked around at all the other boats which now also included kayaks, jetskis, and a swanboat apparently filched from the Boston public garden, only to see a wild and weedy riverbank, with a couple of shabby industrial-looking buildings beyond, one on each side of the river.

On both riverbanks, people were gathering in large clusters. Before them hovered a low barrier from riverbank to riverbank. A ticket-taker was directing people to the right or left, depending on which team they planned to see, and explaining boat-parking regulations (2 Quiller per craft; another 2 Quiller added for latecomers).

As soon as Merle and Mrs. Ainslee paid their parking fees, they were handed glowing bracelets, matching glowing charms were slapped onto the front end of each canoe, and they were directed to a nearby dock. As soon as everyone stepped onto the dock, the canoes whisked themselves under a large rock, not nearly large enough to hide all the boats now disappearing beneath it.

When it seemed their part of the riverbank could hold no more people, the ticket-taker brought his own boat ashore, pulled out a wand, spoke a spell, and the weeds and rocks of the riverbank suddenly vanished, replaced by stadium seats on both sides of the river. The crowd about them now relaxed visibly. Many people were dropping glamours that had disguised them as muggle daytrippers, and were now resplendent in pointed hats and robes in all kinds of team and school colors.

Finished with boat-parking duties, the ticket-taker began admitting people to the stadium seats as another wizard did the same on the opposite bank. The Ainslees began to work their way to one of the higher rows.

"How do they get away with having a whole stadium here in the middle of a Muggle town?" Cait asked Meg.

"You saw how they hide it," replied Meg with a puzzled look.

Merle leaned in. "The real way they keep the Muggles out is that the Council struck a deal with a couple of ghosts that haunt these two buildings. The ghosts can stay there all they like – provided that whenever developers begin nosing around, the ghosts put on a real poltergeistery spook show and make the developers think the buildings aren't worth going for after all. It's worked for a whole decade so far. Being the San Francisco of Massachusetts has yet to do in our stadium!"

Then the game began, and was just as much fun as Cait had hoped. She and Meg whooped and vigorously waved the Brindidi banner each time the player swooped by them, sometimes far aloft in search of the Snitch, sometimes close enough for eye contact.

"Ooh, I think he was smiling at _us_ that time! Gorgeous," sighed Meg.

Penny was also impressed. "I could start to get into sports if all the players look like that," she admitted.

Meg grinned at her. "Now you're catching on! Being at a game with you guys is so much better than sitting here with just big bro and pro sis. Hey, look over there at that brilliant flying! Everything about the guy is gorgeous! Woohoo, here he comes again!" and the banner fluttered with extra energy.

Cait's heart filled with gratitude as she looked at the cheering girls beside her. It was so much fun to finally _have_ real friends, and Cait hoped that she, Penny, and Meg would stay so for a long time. An image of the Magenta trio with their fancy robes then popped into her mind. Them, she couldn't figure out. Elsbeth seemed nice – there was always a crowd around her. Why would she hang around a snobby cheater like Amanda? These musings surprised her – Cait had never wondered before _how_ people became friends. She just figured that friendships happened, and that she'd sometime get her own turn.

She turned her attention back to the game. Both of the teams were strong ones, matching each other point for point, giving Cait lots of time to admire the oversized spiders on the hats of the fans on the opposite bank. Whenever the Seattle Spiders scored, the spiders would jump up and do a victory dance in the air above the fans' heads.

Meg continued, "Poor Jeffries looks just awful, I don't know what's happened to him, but he should get way more points than he is right now. Good thing the rest of the team's having a good day! Everybody thinks Jeffries should retire; I was hoping they'd be wrong, but maybe they really are right."

On her other side, Penny was looking irked as she scanned the stadium, rather than watching the game.

"I wonder how Miss Steeple managed to get away to see this game," she snorted. "Mom's always complaining about how Steeple's way too busy to help Mom out in the store on Saturdays."

"How many people here do you know?" Cait was impressed; she hadn't expected that Penny, as well as Meg, would know some of the people at this game.

"Oh not many, she's the only one I recognized, and I'm not supposed to be worrying about the store anyway," Penny huffed, turning back to the game. "Hey, they're selling Salem Baked Beans down there! I'll treat ya!" She jumped up and ran down the stairs after the candy vendor.

For a while, they chucked beans back and forth at each other in between glancing at the battling chasers and cruising seekers. Then Penny spoke again. "The wizarding community gets kinda small – there are only a couple of towns outside of Salem that have enough magical people to set up Councils and such, and people will travel miles and miles to get to wizarding events like this one."

"What kind of shop does your mom have?"

"Flowers in the front, potions in the back. But I'm sure not gonna take over the shop when I graduate, even though she wants me to. Be stuck in a shop all day? Ick. I wanna travel!"

A glint of gold flashed in the sky, a roar went up around them – the Snitch had been spotted, and everyone's attention was riveted on the two speeding figures chasing after it overhead. Despite their best banner-waving and cheers, however, the Snitch vanished with neither Seeker catching it, and it was soon halftime.

A school of rivermaids gave a choreographed performance with lots of gravity-defying leaps out of the water, followed by a broomball demonstration that took Cait's breath away with the team's speed and agility.

"That's pro broomball all the way!" beamed Meg. "Aren't they amazing?"

Cait nodded. "I want to see more of that. Lots more!"

As the gray-and-green-clad broomball team finished their demonstration and flew towards the bleachers opposite them, a hand motion caught Cait's eye – that broomball player was _signing_! Holding her breath, she kept her gaze on the player and the person he was signing to – only to see her answer with signs of her own. As the rest of the team settled into their seats, she watched them; they were _all_ signing among themselves. She stared at them openly, envying their smooth flow of effortless conversation – no hunkering forward to concentrate on fugitive syllables. No frown lines from staring at ever-so-slight and ever-so-fleeting mouth movements. No interruptions of "What? What?"

"Meg! Who's that team? Where are they from?" demanded Cait.

"Wow, chill! That's what all the pro broomball teams look like," Meg answered.

Cait shook her head. "Do they all gab in Sign? Look!" She pointed across the river, where conversation continued to flow from hand to hand among the team.

"There was an announcement earlier about who they were, but I wasn't really paying attention, I only follow Quiddich, not the other sports," Meg admitted sheepishly.

"Maybe we could find out from their team colors," offered Penny.

Now Cait noticed that not all the broomball players were in their seats yet; some stood, still holding their brooms. From time to time, they would toss glances over to where their coach stood conversing with a tall-hatted golden-robed woman. She now nodded, and the coach loped over to the team, and signed "OK, go!" Each of them grabbed a small pouch from the guy who had negotiated with Golden Robes, and got back on broomstick for another circuit around the stadium.

Suddenly, the air was full of tiny twittering silver birds with green wings. Cait caught one gently – no, it now wasn't a bird at all, but a silvery sheet of paper lettered in green ink: "Seattle Eagles – See us in New York – February 2008". As soon as she finished reading it, the paper folded in on itself, and a small bird again sat in her hand.

If only she had a broom! Cait was dying to fly right across the water to this team, but no – the game was beginning again, and gold-robed officials were making sure that everyone stayed within the seating area.

The Eagles were settled again on their bleacher – all of them this time – and the last of the foil birds were disappearing into the eager hands of spectators.

The Finches and the Spiders now played with redoubled energy, and Brindisi had barely a glance to spare for adoring fans now. The game had also grown more reckless – Bludgers flew about with abandon. Meg cheered as a well-aimed Bludger unseated a Spider who was about to block a Finch quaffle, only to earn a scowl from her older brother.

"You wouldn't be cheering at all if that Bludger were aimed for Brindisi," he scolded. "The real game is in Chaser strategy anyways, not this barbaric Bludger-tossing."

But there was now hardly any chance to study Chaser strategy. Brindisi streaked across the sky, then skimmed the water, hand held triumphantly aloft, a glint of gold in it.

"They did it again! A completely undefeated season! Whoo!" Meg yelled, hugging everyone around her. The whole stadium on their side of the river was now on their feet and cheering for all they were worth. Another shower of glittering things filled the air – these ones were metallic red, shaped like maple–seed wings, with gold writing announcing the Finches' next game.

As everyone poured out of the stadium, Cait tried to catch the attention of the broomball players, but the crowd was too thick. Hordes of people crowded around the triumphant Finches, hoping for autographs, while the rest of the crowd tried to arrive first at the boat parking or up the bank to the street. A flash of green and silver-gray flickered above the crowd – Cait looked up as the broomball team coasted into "V" formation on their brooms over the river. There was a moment of simultaneous eye-contact, and a synchronized wand-wave as they hovered. Then as they flew off, they blurred up – and vanished.

"What did they just _do_?" gasped Cait.

"Advanced weatherworking," answered Louise. "There's a way to call up winds to bring you from coast to coast quickly, but you have to be a very good magician and an extremely good broomrider to pull it off. Can't blame them for showing off – we've already seen how good they are at broomriding."

As chatter surrounded Cait on the way back to the Ainslee's house, she could only daydream of what she had just seen – a whole team of signing magicworkers. Were they all deaf? Some of them? Was there a deaf magical school the way there was a school for voodoo and another for Native-American magic?

After an enormous supper of the Ainslees' excellent cooking, everybody stood in the riverside back yard to see Meg, Penny, and Cait off to SWI. Nini had received a heroine's welcome -- a neighbor of the Ainslees had reported a very short, scratched-up, and alarmed-looking creature fleeing the Ainslee yard for all it was worth. As Louise readied the sail on their canoe, Cait studied the enchanted craft. "How hard is it to fly a canoe for just one person, versus flying a broom?"

Louise shrugged as she tested the rigging. "It's actually easier in some ways – better for balance, especially if you have to drag along a lot of stuff. But it doesn't go as fast as a broom, and it needs stronger magic to keep it aloft. It's that much bigger, after all. You'll get to try it out for yourself once you're thirdyear."

Mrs. Ainslee swept Cait up in a hug and pressed a packet of cookies in her hand; Penny shook Merle's hand goodbye, thanking him for the Quiddich tutorial he'd given her during the previous night's supper, and Nini sat bolt upright in the middle of the canoe as if to say, "Let's get going already." As they sat down and the canoe lifted off, Nicky burbled in Meg's hood, and the sky was again flawlessly clear and the air calm.

Thoughts spun around and around in Cait's head. Won't be able to see the Eagles until their February game … no canoe-flying until thirdyear … she _had_ to meet this signing team! Their signing flowed so elegantly, nothing at all like that cluttered-up stuff from fourth grade. Maybe there was an East Coast game sooner than February? Or practices? And where? And how would she get there? Could she pull off sneaking out of classes if she had to?

Once back at Partridge Hall, Cait could see something outside their door. A dog? Was Prost checking up on them? No, the shape was wrong – the library fox sat waiting for them, a black-bound book between its paws. It now picked up the book in its teeth and presented it to Cait. Two thin ribbons, one white, and the other one red, extended from the book's pages, and waved about like snake tongues.

"Awright, I told you she'd send a fox!" exulted Cait as she accepted the book, and read its spine: _A Night-Rider's Guide to Team Flying_. Inside the front cover, a picture of a rambling and low-slung mansion surrounded by pines filled a bookplate which read, "Snohomish Magical Academy" in neat letters. Below the bookplate was a message in glowing red ink: "PLEASE NOTE that after 14 days, this book will fly back to Snohomish." Cait searched her brain. Where's Snohomish? How far had this book travelled? The fox gazed at her.

"Uh, Penny, are we supposed to pay the library fox or something?"

"Pull out that red flag in the book."

Cait pulled out the red slip. Letters marched down it, reading, "Please mark here to acknowledge receipt of book." As she fumbled in her pockets for a pen, Penny shook her head. "Use your wand."

Feeling clueless, Cait swept her wand across the slip while forming the intention "Book received." The letters vanished, replaced by the words, "Book successfully delivered to patron." As soon as the new phrase appeared, the fox reached up, took the slip in its teeth, and trotted down the hallway and out of the dorm.

The white slip was now fluttering at a furious clip. As soon as Cait turned to the page it marked, the slip lay quiet at the first page of the chapter, "How to communicate among team members when silence and dark are essential."

Despite the excitement of this new information, Cait yawned widely as she followed Penny into their room. "Am I glad tomorrow's Sunday. Where's Snohomish?"

Penny shrugged as she tossed her bag at her desk and put Nick in his terrarium. "Have no idea. Gotta sleep anyway. Now." She curled up under her covers without even brushing her teeth, and fell asleep instantly.

Cait looked again inside the book's front cover. "After 14 days" … from when? Aha – there was a date, penciled in below the notice: 11/16/07 SMA-SWI. She fought her tiredness to remember what date that was – oh yeah, Friday. It must have arrived just after she'd left for Fitchburg. So, the due date was Friday – time to consult her calendar – the Friday after Thanksgiving. Was that a Monday-Friday? She yawned again – too tired to figure it out. And the holiday probably also messed up the schedule. She'd figure it out in the morning.

Sunday morning found Cait up early, reading the night-flying book before breakfast, as Nini remained curled up on her bed. Penny gave her a surprised look as she padded to the bathroom, but said nothing. Most of the techniques the book described were very much like what she was already learning with the V-K method. There was a rudimentary ASL vocabulary as well, with some natural gestures thrown in, and in the back was the fully-written-out spell for making glow-globes. "Once you have established a thriving colony of fireflies, you may begin creating your first small glow-globe …"

A blur of brown landed on the page, and Nick's amber eyes looked up at her. "Hey Cait, since when do you risk missing breakfast?" laughed Penny as she scooped up her familiar.

Nini stretched, yawned, and jumped down from Cait's bed to gaze at her.

"I surrender, I surrender!" cried Cait. Her stomach growled. "Food!"

Off they went to Great Hall, the book stowed in one of the many pockets of Cait's ordinary robes. The many pockets were her favorite part of this school uniform – one in the cuff of each sleeve, a diagonal one in the front especially for wands, side pockets at the usual place, and a set of even more pockets all around the hemline. Way better than muggle clothes – she was always ripping out the flimsy, undersized pockets of the cute outfits she liked.

"Hey Meg, where's Snohomish?" Cait asked as they all picked up plates and began choosing from the breakfast buffet.

Meg glared at the assortment of bread before her. "Shoulda grabbed a loaf of Mom's homebaked before leaving Fitchburg," she grumped. "Good morning to you, too. What's up with Snohomish? You planning to go play for the Spiders? You can't go pro before being Hedge-certified anyway."

"So you do know Snohomish! It's on the West Coast?"

"Seattle suburb." Meg picked up an English muffin and sighed. "Sooo -- ?"

Cait showed Meg the book. "That's where this book came from."

"Whoa, I wanna read that," enthused Meg, putting down her plate and flipping through the pages. "Can I have this next? You know how great some of these techniques will be next year when we can join the sports teams?"

"Hey, it's still mine for now!" protested Cait. "Hand over!"

"You're holding up the line! We're starving back here!" wailed somebody behind them. The book went back into its pocket, and food onto plates. The rest of the meal was spent analyzing yesterday's game and trying to decipher the Alchemy homework they'd procrastinated on until now.

Halfway through Wednesday's Zoomorphia class, as the class observed sparrow-flocking patterns, Cait realized that she did – just maybe – have a way to get to Seattle. The book was supposed to _fly_ to Snohomish. Could she fly there _with_ it?

With her mind full of signing, Snohomish, and broomball, she got snapped at more than the usual number of times in that day's Astronologia class, especially after she answered a question about orbits with "west wind."

"We are studying the stars, not weatherworking, Miss Leo," growled Ms. Pitts. "You are making even more mistakes than Miss Ainslee." Ouch. She threw a sympathetic glance to her friend when Ms. Pitts turned to mumble something about those orbits.

After class, Cait waved Meg over. "Can we broomsprint _after_ class tonight?" she asked.

Meg paused and frowned. "You really want to fly in the dark? You must be wicked nervous about night flying next semester! My big sister wasn't scaring you with her stories of weatherworking dangers, was she?"

Cait shook her head. "Nah, I just want to know _if_ I can fly in the dark. What if I wipe out in front of the whole firstyear class? Besides, I can really go for some flying after putting up with Ms. Pitts."

"Suit yourself," Meg shrugged. "Sure, let's try it."

But the flying experiment only confirmed what Cait already suspected – flying in the dark did not work at all for her. She couldn't stay on for even half a roof-length! As soon as she was aloft, all sense of up and down vanished, the broom would spin, and she found herself falling. After about ten tries, several scrapes, and a goose egg on her head, Cait flumped down on the roof in a black mood while Meg zipped back and forth overhead, calling out useful hints to Cait as she thought of them.

"I bet I could stay aboard a canoe better," fumed Cait. "Are you sure there isn't some kind of balancing spell I could use?"

Meg landed and shook her head. "There's a reason broomcouriers use backpacks and carry-straps. You can't fly and run a spell at the same time unless you've got two heads."

"Hey, you know, there was this TV show about twin girls," said Cait, gloom momentarily lifted. "They have one body, but have two completely separate heads. I bet they could do some pretty incredible stuff, if they turn out to be magical!"

"They'd be all over the wizard world," speculated Meg. "One of them could run illusions while the other one hangs on and steers. They could get away with almost anything…" And thoughts of night-flying subsided for the rest of the week.

Chapter 5, Part 3 – Snohomish.

On the Friday morning the book was due, Cait began to worry. What if the Eagles weren't in town this weekend? How would she find out what they were up to? Showing up would be pointless if they weren't even there. Merle and Meg had mentioned some wizard-sports quarterly, but of course Cait couldn't remember its name. The sound of birdwings came to mind. Right – the library had a periodicals section.

"I'm off to the library," she announced, as Penny glared at the Alchemy assignment she'd been cursing since they'd received it on Tuesday. Fortunately, it was a Wednesday-Friday, so there was no class until 1:00.

"I'll follow you there," answered Penny, picking up her own bookbag. "I have no idea how I'm going to learn all these rocks. Clear quartz for lucidity, rose quartz for love, at least those I know. Smoky quartz … what do you do with smoky quartz?" She grinned suddenly. "Hey Cait, speaking of love, have you been noticing all the soppy looks Andrea's been giving you lately? I believe you've got yourself a fan!"

Cait groaned as they crossed the courtyard. A fan? Her? Since when? There had to be some mixup, or a cruel joke. But a quick Mindcast in Penny's direction revealed not a whiff of duplicity, only amusement. Huh. She searched her memory – Andrea? Oh wait, that's the selkie girl who was so scared of flying at first. And she did always seem to be right beside Cait in broomwork class, but didn't she do those puppydog eyes at everyone? And that _was_ one big smile she gave Cait when the halfterm broomracers were announced. "Nah, she's always cute with everyone." Cait shrugged.

Penny snorted. "Uh-uh. For somebody who sees so much, you better look around you more in Broomwork class! OK – Amethyst … tourmaline … I have no idea. Make sure I don't forget to look those up."

Once at the library, Penny grabbed a portal and announced "Amethyst," running over to the white-glowing Reference book it showed her.

Cait went over to Ms. Fletcher's desk. "Um, thanks for the night-flying book, Ms. Fletcher, I'm almost done reading it. Do we have newspapers and stuff for outside New England?" Cait was ashamed to realize that she had not read a single newspaper since arriving at SWI. Her parents were always on her case to read more about the outside world, now that she was so grownup. She didn't even know what wizarding newspapers existed. It was wonderful to get away from the constant flicker and noise of TV, though – that she didn't miss at all, with or without captioning for the deaf. Half the time the captions were so messed up with typos that they didn't make any more sense than the fuzzy spoken words.

"Is there any particular area you're researching?" prodded the librarian.

"Well, I've got a favorite broomball team that's in Seattle, and I want to know more about them," replied Cait.

Ms. Fletcher smiled. "Better a sportswoman's interest in news than no interest in news! Let me show you how the periodicals room works." Leading Cait to a door behind the desk, Fletcher continued, one hand resting on the doorknob. "Everyone is completely welcome to use this room, despite the closed door. You'll see why we keep it closed in a moment. The portals work the same way as the ones you already use, but you also need to be sure to specify the date you want when making your request. And don't forget to close the door behind you!" Fletcher took her hand off the knob and went back to her desk.

Cait turned the knob and went in. Cubbyholes filled with rolled-up booklets of all sizes lined the tall room, running all the way up the walls, making the place feel more like an aviary than a library. The middle of the room was kept open and airy, while the shelves resembled nothing so much as where the messenger-birds' coop on the Partridge-Hall roof. A flurry of motion in one corner caught her eye. "New Arrivals" announced a sign in that corner. Sure enough, more pamphlets were flapping themselves in through a special pane of the tall window opposite the door and arranging themselves along a long table underneath the sign. In the opposite corner, periodicals were winging themselves out a window labeled "Outdated ephemera."

Walking under the portal, Cait spoke aloud: "Seattle." A rustling and fluttering erupted from a nearby shelf, but nothing else happened. Oh, right. She needed a date. "Seattle, November 23," she now said.

There was now only a little rustling; a single roll of paper unfurled itself, spread out its pages, and flew down to Cait, hovering just outside the portal. As Cait stepped out from under the portal, the paper dropped into her hand, pages flat, and ready to be read. Cait flipped directly to the sports section, silently promising her parents that she would come back here and read the real news later. Broomsports – aha, there it was. International Quiddich. US Quiddich. Quodpot. Assorted school events. Finally, at the end of the section – Broomball. Gold! The Eagles have a Saturday home game. Does that mean that they'll be there on Friday, too? Cait could find out nothing further about the team in that paper. She put the paper down with the sigh of relief that the Eagles would at least be in town. Once the paper hit the wood of the tabletop, it opened up its pages, and flapped its way back to its original compartment.

In the meanwhile, Cait realized that there was a buzzing sensation coming from one of her pockets – the book! What was it going to do? And when was it going to do it? If it decided to fly home after sundown, swiping one of the faculty/staff brooms would be pointless, given her balance. Her mind raced. What other options were there?

It dawned on her that one of the school boats might do the trick – hadn't Louise said they'd be easier to balance? And they had a flying spell built right in. That's what she'd do – grab one of the boats they used to get to broomwork practice.

On the way to the door, she paused. Should she tell Penny? She'd figured on taking off solo, whenever the book did whatever it was going to do; she was used to doing things on her own. On the other hand, Penny knew a lot more about magical things and how they behaved than Cait did. And it would be kind of unfair to disappear without letting at least one of her friends know what she was up to. Disappear … tell someone … take off alone … take someone along … Cait made up her mind.

Bolting out of the periodicals room, she ran towards Penny, but a handwave and arched eyebrow from Fletcher stopped her – oh yeah, the door. Closing the door, Cait went up to Penny, whispering, "I found them! The Eagles have a home game on Saturday, and I have an idea."

Penny looked up from her guide to crystals. "Home game?" Her face was blank for a moment. "Aren't they from Seattle or something?" Cait nodded briskly and waited.

A gleam came into Penny's eye and she looked down at the book before her, then back at Cait. "I'm studied out anyway. Let's take off, and you tell me your idea. Is it against rules?"

Once they were in the courtyard, Cait asked, "This book is supposed to fly to Snohomish tonight – do you know what kind of spells can do that?"

Penny considered. "I dunno, but I bet Meg would. Bet it uses wind and stuff." Cait began to wish she'd taken off solo after all – how many people were going to be in on this?

Penny continued. "My mom has a spell she uses to send potions to people when they need 'em in a hurry. It's a really tough spell, though, and she gets together with a weatherworker whenever she needs to work that particular one. It works by calling up a really fast wind to zip the thing there --" Comprehension dawned on her. "So that's why you want to know about Snohomish! Ha! We've got us an adventure!" She paused. "But the spell won't be strong enough for a book _and_ a person."

Cait nodded agreement. "That's why I'm heading to Great Hall. Will that spell pull a flying boat?"

Penny flashed her a wicked grin. "Let's go! We don't have nearly enough adventures around here. It's gotten almost as boring as public school."

They were now at Partridge Hall.

"Let's ditch the bags, they'll be too heavy," suggested Penny.

"Yeah, you're right," agreed Cait. Stowing their stuff in the room, Cait made sure she had her wand in its pocket, plus some money, plus her ever-present mini sketchpad and pencil. Checking Nini's box and catfood feeder, she told the cat, "Now be good while I'm out!" But the cat jumped onto Cait's shoulder, digging her claws into her heavy winter cloak and refusing to budge. "You win," sighed Cait.

At the doorway Penny stopped. "Meg really should be in on this. She knows more about flying, weatherworking, and how to find teams at practice." Conceding defeat, Cait waved "Go ahead." Five minutes later, Penny returned with a beaming Meg, and they all ran to Great Hall together.

To her enormous relief, the door underneath Great Hall opened to Cait's wand-tap, and they ran downstairs to the double-currented river and its boats. _So far, so good_, Cait thought as they crossed the pool room. _Nobody here at lunchtime_. A splash to their right interrupted that hopeful notion, and she saw a blur of motion. A harbor seal watched them from the edge of the large pool. It disappeared below the surface of the water for a moment, then there was another splash. A sealskin lay on the pool room floor, and Andrea gazed at them quizzically from the edge of the pool, arms crossed before her.

Cait made a "shhh" motion to her lips.

Andrea tipped her head and raised her eyebrows. "Are you on teacher-sent business?" she queried softly, leaning out of the pool.

Cait shook her head "no."

Andrea's eyes sparkled. "Is it secret? I'll keep anything secret for you!" She kicked happily in the water.

Beside Cait, Penny snorted as she suppressed a giggle. Cait growled at her, "Okay, you were right! You were right." Meg's impish expression made it clear that she had just put two and two together, and Cait motioned her friends into a huddle before anybody started any teasing. "Okay, what do you think, can we trust her?" Cait whispered.

Meg did a quick Mindcast, and she and Penny both nodded. The book buzzed ever more insistently in Cait's pocket.

Cait approached the eager selkie. "Well, I have a library book to return. And I plan to go along with it. To Snohomish on the West Coast."

Andrea squealed with joy. "That's a great secret! Teachers will have a fit if they find out, but they won't, not ever, not from me!" She paused. "That's near Seattle, right?" Meg nodded, and Andrea thought for a moment. "If you get into any trouble out there, ask for the Orcas Clan of selkies. They're my mom's cousins. I've told them all about your flying, Cait!" Andrea now did a stunning backflip into the water as Meg pounded Cait's back and guffawed, and Penny did the twohanded ASL "sweetheart" sign. Cait fervently wished she'd done this trip solo after all.

Cait was curious about one thing, and now asked Andrea, "Are you officially supposed to be here?"

Andrea nodded. "Selkie privilege. But your secret's still safe with me. Good luck!" She grabbled the pelt, vanished under the water, and a harbor seal swam once more in the SWI main pool.

At the boats, Cait stopped as they were about to step in. "I won't be able to hear you once we're over the river, so you'd better use Sign if you want to tell me anything. Do either of you know the spell to get these boats going?"

Meg nodded. "Yeah, I recognized the spell Greengage used after the third boat trip with our class. I'll tell it to go to our practice golf course so we'll be in open air and not in the middle of town or the boy's school."

"You're on," said Cait, and they all piled into the lead boat, which took off as soon as Meg pronounced the spell. The book's buzzing become more forceful; pulling it out, Cait could see that it now glowed as well. More quickly than she'd expected, they were rising up to the grass-lined fissure in the cavern roof, and now hovered in the afternoon air at the Salem town golf course.

The book began to flash.

Nini dove for the floor of the boat. "Brace yourselves! Hold on tight!" yelled Cait, as she clung to the book with both hands.

Without warning, it felt as if somebody turned on a giant vacuum cleaner, and their boat was the dust bunny pulled inside. No sun, no sky, no grass, only a bright blended breathless everythingness and nothingness as they were pulled by the spellworked wind from coast to coast in an airless limbo that might have been five minutes or five hours, and her hands ached from holding the book, but she could not move them had she wanted to, and her lungs ached, as did her legs from bracing them against the sides of the boat, and just as she felt she couldn't hang on for a moment longer – there was a change in the wind and the pressure; and now the sound of voices sorting themselves out into words.

"Here comes the book now, let's see who wanted to hang onto it so badly."

"More than one somebody there, seems like."

With a spine-rattling thump, the boat hit the ground.

Light surrounded them, there was no more blur, and they could breathe.

"Is this the Snohomish Library?" gasped Cait, the book still in her outstretched hands. "Here's your book!"

But a another voice was drowning out hers, "Aha! We caught a whole pack of book thieves!" A sternfaced witch hovered above Cait and snatched up the book.

"I had no idea that one book could bring along three people with it," said a young wizard in an awestruck tone, as he reached out a hand to the stunned travelers. Cait winced as she stood up, hoping she hadn't broken her tailbone or anything else. Nini shook herself, looked about briefly, and jumped onto Cait's shoulders, seeming none the worse for wear.

"But we did get the book back on time, didn't we? You are Circulation staff, right?" Cait continued. They were in a long and airy room, which reminded Cait more of some of the big old beach houses she had seen on Cape Cod vacations, than any school she'd ever seen. Bookcases along the walls alternated with large windows looking out at a stunning mountaintop.

"Nice try," snarled Sternface. "We hear all the excuses, all day long. Thought you could escape the return spell, eh?" She turned to the young man. "Detain them in Classroom B, and contact their school."

"No! Really, the book's all yours, we're not stealing it," protested Cait. "Really, we wanted to follow the book here because there's people in Seattle we've got to meet, and it's near to Snohomish. I'm looking for the Eagles team, they play out of Seattle. I've got to!"

"You and a million other fans," scoffed the witch, and waved at the young man to proceed.

"And the Orcas Clan," added Meg. "Don't forget we're supposed to look them up too!"

Sternface's eyes still flashed, but the young man's grip on Cait's arm let up a bit.

"Who sent you to the Orcas Clan?" His voice reflected genuine interest.

"Andrea –" began Cait, embarrassed at the crush, and at suddenly not even being able to remember her last name.

"Andrea Goode," added Penny.

"You still have to be detained until we contact them," barked Sternface, and the young man motioned them to pick up the boat and follow him down a short hallway. Their arms ached as he ushered them into a room with darkwood desks pushed against the sides of the room. Built-in shelves and cupboards filled the pale-painted walls.

The bickering began as soon as the young man cast an orange-glowing Retaining spell across the classroom doorway and left.

Cait flumped to the floor in a black mood, Nini purring against her cheek in an attempt to cheer her up. _So they were stuck here and about to be sent back to SWI in disgrace. How was she ever going to meet this team now? _

"We're stuck before we've even started," she moaned.

"Girl, you're the one who wanted adventure, weren't you? Don't be a wuss!" spat Penny, turning towards the door to examine the bright crisscrossing threads of the Retaining-spell's web.

"Well I thought they'd be fine with the book being back, not jail us up as book thieves!" retorted Cait.

"Stop fighting! I'm trying to concentrate over here!" bellowed Meg, who sat in the canoe, trying out every variation of "shamaya" that she could think of, some of her sister's flying spells, and a few of her own inventions. None of them moved the boat so much as an inch.

Before long, the floor vibrated with angry footsteps, and a solidly-built and very good-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair stood in the doorway, glowering at them as his voice boomed out. "What lovesick young jock pup has Dez enticed out to Seattle this time? So help me, if I have to bail out her romantic messes one more time –"

He stopped in surprise as the three firstyear girls looked up to meet his eyes.

"You're no boys." He blinked. "And you're way too young. What the hell has Dez dragged you into?"

Equally baffled, Cait asked, "Who's Dez?"

There was a moment of blank silence.

"Dez didn't send for you," stated Salt-and-Pepper.

All three firstyears shook their heads.

"But you do know Andrea," he added.

"We're in her class," stated Cait. "I'm Caitlin Leo, this is Penny Dingle, and Meg Ainslee's in the boat over there."

"Aha," said Salt-and-Pepper, an impressed look flicking across his face. "So you're Cait. You're the one who worked so hard at becoming such a strong broomrider. Andrea's very impressed with you." His tone darkened. "That means we're in for a whole new generation of rescuing impetuous jocks. Well, they'd better all start traveling to the east coast, instead of the west, because I've had more than my share of this stupidity. Well, c'mon, can't say I haven't had plenty of practice with bailing out surprise visitors. Although you _are_ the first ones to actually bring along your own boat." He motioned at them to get up and follow him, as he released the Retaining spell with a quick wandflick.

Later on, Meg relayed to Cait that the muttering he had done after that speech had some very colorful details about just what he was going to tell his sister next time he traveled out East.

Leaving the library and the classroom corridor behind, they entered an airy foyer with a sweeping blond-wood staircase, and a huge picture window showing even more of the mountain vista they'd seen from the library. Outside the mansion, students sprawled here and there on the grassy lawn which rolled down from the front door.

"About time the sun finally showed itself," growled Salt-and-Pepper. "You have no idea how lucky you are to even see this mountain at all. We hardly get to see it ourselves."

As they followed Salt-and-Pepper's long strides, the trio of girls struggled to carry the canoe with aching muscles. They were still tired from the unusual ride to the west coast, and didn't have any hands free to perform a boat-carrying spell. Not that any of them yet had levitated anything so large as that boat, nor had they learned how to run a spell as a team. As Salt-and-Pepper stopped at the edge of the lawn, they let the boat down with groans of relief. He now turned to face them, catching them all in his gaze. _What a beautiful shade of brown his eyes are_, thought Cait. _How come he has to be such an old grownup?_

"While we're still on school grounds, time to find out what you're up to so that we can figure out what's next."

Meg was also gazing at those eyes in an odd way; Penny elbowed them both. "Not the time to go moony-eyed," she hissed at her friends, then answered Salt-and-Pepper. "We're looking to meet the Seattle Eagles team."

"I am not a ticket agent," he snorted, "but I can get you to where their games and practices happen. I suppose that none of you know how to charm the wind to carry you all back home."

They shook their heads, chagrined. True, none of them had considered how they were going to get back home.

He sighed. "I'll get you to Seattle. The rest is up to you. You'll be staying with us tonight for Andrea's sake" – he gave a thin smile – "and I'll get you into the city tomorrow."

He now eyed their robes. "This charm will see you to the town dock without being noticed by muggles." He murmured a spell and made a triple wand-wave. Meg, Cait, and Penny now stood in jeans and Seahawk sweatshirts. It was only illusion, however, as Cait could still feel the shape of her robes as she checked for the things in her pockets.

"You'll pass," he nodded, and motioned for them to follow him down the sloping road before them.

They now passed beyond the tall pines surrounding the school mansion, and looked down on a neighborhood of wooden houses, whose long, sloping rooflines were nothing at all like the boxy and upright New England houses Cait knew. After two blocks of admiring the houses and grand pines, the road curved, and the sea now sparkled beyond the blocks of houses.

But how much longer did they have to carry this boat? The girls' muscles ached and trembled; they began stumbling over each other's feet. Cait caught Penny's eye – maybe they could jointly do a "bo lekh" spell from one end of a block to the next? But Salt-and-Pepper had seen the glance and their sagging grip on the boat.

"Hide in Plain Sight! No obvious spellwork!" he hissed. All the same, he did some sort of charm that made the boat feel about forty pounds lighter, so at least they no longer had to worry about dropping it.

After another couple of blocks, the houses gave way to a cluster of shops of all kinds: ice cream, secondhand books, antiques, an art gallery, and handmade jewelry. Each of three cafes claimed to have the best coffee in town. The street appeared to dead-end right at the shore at a paved area that didn't quite look like a parking lot, since there were long lanes painted on the pavement, rather than parking spaces.

"Muggles need ferries to get about," Salt-and-Pepper indicated the paved area. "We have our own ways of getting from here to there. Over this way." He now led them towards the extreme right-hand corner of the ferryboat lot. There, a footpath led through a forest of pines which crowded up to the water in the fading light. Just beyond the path, a small cement boatramp could barely be seen; this was apparently their destination, as Salt-and-Pepper motioned for them to stop and put their boat down.

In the distance, a ferryboat made its way towards a barely-visible island.

Remembering the charm on their clothing, Cait looked down to see her Seahawks shirt getting blurry about the edges; she could see the outlines of Meg and Penny's robes beginning to take form as well.

Salt-and-Pepper now went up to a nearby treetrunk and nodded as he examined a squirrelhole just above his head. Speaking a quick spell, he reached inside and retrieved a carefully-folded object from it. It took a moment before Cait realized what it was – a pelt, like Andrea's.

Holding it carefully, he turned to face the girls. "I will need a moment alone to get myself ready." His gaze was stern. "You three get yourselves in the boat, and be ready to push off and follow me as soon as I'm in seal form and ready to guide you. Watch that ferry in the meanwhile or something."

"But we don't have any paddles!" squeaked Meg.

"What the hell do they teach you in magical school? We're out of Plain Sight now. What do you need paddles for?" The exasperation in his tone was plain.

"We're firstyears. They haven't taught us any boat-propelling spells yet." Penny's arms were folded, chin held high.

"Besides, I only know river boating, not ocean," added Meg.

He looked at them with disgust. "I'll tow you then. Get the boat in the water and yourselves inside. And no staring." He performed some wandwork towards the bow of the boat, put the wand into the tree, then angrily motioned at them to stop watching him.

Moments later, a seal's head bobbed in the water before the boat. As he swam forward, the boat followed after, gliding smoothly in the calm water. Silhouettes of tall pines arced over them to the right; gulls swooped over the water to their left, looking for goodies tossed overboard by careless ferryboat passengers. The last light of sunset still glowed to their left, and Cait could feel herself beginning to relax for the first time in hours. Now this was an adventure! She felt like she could spend days coasting under pines like these, watching birds and seals and islands going by. Reaching before her, she could feel Nini purring from her spot between Cait's feet. She did not now regret the impetuous decision to follow that library book to its West Coast home.

Chapter 5, Part 4 – Orcas and Eagles

All too soon, a cove with a smooth-pebbled beach appeared on their right. A small cedar-shingled cottage nestled beyond the tidal line, among the piney roots of an embankment immediately behind it. The door stood open, and a faint glow emanated from within. The seal flumped up the beach towards the house, entered through the open door, but soon came back out and flumped back to the water, vanishing among the waves.

Meg, Penny, and Cait looked at each other and shrugged -- this must be their overnight housing. As they stepped out into the shallow water and pulled the boat up the pebbled beach, a woman moved into the doorway and stood there watching them. She was every bit as captivating as Salt-and-Pepper, with flawless skin and long black hair rippling down her back.

"So you're our surprise guests," she stated in a friendly voice. "You'll need to put that boat up further – up here." She stepped onto the beach and showed them a level area just beyond the cottage. "Come in, come in. There's not much, but at least you'll have a roof over your heads tonight and won't have to sleep out in the open."

As they stepped into the cottage, the smell of smoked fish surrounded them; Penny barely restrained herself from pulling a face. In contrast, Nini, who was on Cait's shoulders, picked up her head and sniffed the air, eyes wide, whiskers alert. Cait's stomach growled; she loved fish of all kinds. The cottage was indeed small, but comfortable, with rustic pine paneling on the walls, benches running along the entire perimeter of the single room. A dining table and set of stools stood in the center of the floor. The table was already set with a brown loaf of bread, cutting board and a knife, a small bowl of butter, three plates, and a platter containing various kinds of small fish which Cait couldn't wait to sample.

A stone fireplace to one side boasted a steaming teakettle, with a large teapot nearby. As Cait gazed around, it became apparent why the smell of smoked fish was so strong. The rafters were full of dried and drying fish of all shapes and varieties, plus several kinds of seaweeds, some with big broad leaves, some with lacy, ruffly fronds. Nini chattered in frustration as she followed Cait's gaze upward.

The woman gestured at them to all take places at the table. "You must be starving – please help yourselves. I'm Marnie Orcas. My less-than-polite husband Timo has probably not introduced himself to you at all. Am I right?"

She sighed as they all nodded, mouths already full of that wonderful bread. Meg had cut herself an especially large piece as soon as she saw that it was homebaked, and she had an ecstatic look on her face. It was not the molasses-sweet "brown bread" that Cait grew up eating with baked beans, nor was it the heavy stuff that came from the health store back home. This bread was dense but tantalizing, and tasted a little like oatmeal.

Cait and Meg now reached towards the platter of fish, as Penny moved her chair away from them. At Cait's feet, the blissful Nini growled over her very own chub.

Marnie continued. "You'll have to forgive him. After a certain member of our clan got married, he was really looking forward to not bailing out lovesick pursuers and surprise guests anymore. Dez believed in having too much fun for most people's good."

Having now sampled each kind of fish on the platter, Cait buttered one of the few remaining pieces of brown bread. Although they were full, all three girls regretted the disappearance of the last slice of that loaf.

"So, what did this Dez do, anyway?" asked Cait, savoring her last bit of bread, as Marnie poured tea for everyone.

Marnie shrugged. "Trouble is, Dez didn't have to do anything. People just fell for her, all the time, all sorts of folks, but she did have a thing for athletes, especially broomriders. And it was the kind of silly puppy love that made people do really stupid stuff sometimes." Penny smirked and signed "sweetheart" in Cait's direction, and got an elbow in her ribs.

"Like?" prodded Meg as she nabbed the last fish off the platter. Marnie gazed into the rafters for a moment, cradling a cup of tea between her hands.

"Well, like the time a love-of-the-moment brought a whole quodpot team along with him, which wasn't too bad, except that Dez happened to be at the game of their worst rival at the time, and when the fans saw this other team show up, a nice brawl broke out. When you gals grow up, never try to down more than three double-fizz hard ciders at one go, especially at a game. For one thing, it makes people think brawling is great fun. Took us months to get the incitement fines paid off, not to mention physical damage repaired." She took a drink of tea, watching the girls. "Timo says you're all firstyears."

"Yeah, and we don't get to do any sports yet," complained Meg.

"But I really do hafta meet that broomball team," added Cait.

"Just don't try falling in love with any of 'em," chuckled Marnie. "I have plenty more jocks-in-love stories, if you want to hear them!"

Meg and Penny were quite happy to sit and listen to Dez stories all night, and Marnie was indeed a captivating storyteller. Penny was looking particularly entranced. It took Cait a while to finally ask the question which had been bothering her.

"So, if this is the Orcas _Clan_, where's everyone else?"

"Fair question," nodded Marnie. "Most of us prefer to spend the night in seal form, but we keep several cabins like this one for when we feel like being in human form instead. Or, of course, when surprise human guests show up."

Meg tried to stifle a huge yawn and Cait could see Penny's head begin to nod off to her right, even as she mumbled something about "more stories, please!"

"Bed time!" announced Marnie. She wanded the dishes off to a waiting dishpan, and set a scrubbing spell into action. Turning to the girls, she added, "Each of you, please take a seat on those benches against the wall. The table needs to move!"

Wondering what was about to happen, Cait poked her friends awake. Where in this tiny cabin was the table going to go?

Marnie sent a spell to the table and stools. The stools floated up underneath the table, and then table legs and stools legs alike folded themselves up flat against the tabletop, which now floated upwards, to rest on two of the rafters above them.

"Now there's room for the beds," proclaimed Marnie, performing another spell and wandwave. The benches were now real beds, complete with fluffy pillows and warm comforters.

"Good night, until morning!" said Marnie. She finished banking the fire, and stood in the doorway to tell them where the simple but adequate facilities were, as she put a glow-globe by the door. She then turned and disappeared into the darkness outside. Soon there was only the sound of waves on the beach, and the occasional bark of a seal.

First thing in the morning, as they enjoyed fresh-caught fish for breakfast pan-fried by the still-grumpy Timo, Cait had only one question in her mind.

"How do we find the Eagles?"

Marnie slipped out the cottage without answering. By the time the fried fish were devoured, along with a newly-baked loaf of that brown bread, two seals, one smaller than the other, were swimming up to the beach. A moment later, Marnie was stepping back into the cottage, together with a very handsome youth, just a bit above the firstyears' age. _Was there no such thing as a homely selkie? _wondered Cait as she tried to not stare too much.

"Neil here is a very avid Broomball fan," Marnie informed them. "He assures me that your chances are good that you can catch up with the Eagles during their practice today, and before somebody from your school drags you back to Massachusetts." She took a cup of tea and sat down.

"Are you all ready?" Neil asked the girls. He sounded anxious. "Not to be rude, but we gotta set out now if we're going to reach Seattle in time. We'll be stuck having to hide our magic -- too many commuters can see us! So remember to use the paddles in the boat. Can we go?" He flashed a smile that set off a gush of excited chatter from Meg, and an eye-roll from Penny although she also blushed and made a point of showing off her muscles as she helped carried their boat to the water.

Once settled in the boat, the three girls looked about in panic – where did Neil go? A seal head popped up before the boat and gazed at them, then nodded his head towards a set of very hazy and distant skyscrapers. Seattle was that way. As he swam off in that direction, the boat followed; apparently the charm that Timo put on it last night still held. They traveled so smoothly and easily, that Cait suspected that the friendly current they rode was weatherworked.

As they glided along the shore, remembering to paddle for Plain-Sight's sake, Cait's muscles and tailbone still ached, but the night's sleep had helped, and adrenaline now made her forget the pain. She was going to meet this team that talked in Sign! The views of cliffs, tall trees, and many small stony beaches looked especially beautiful to her now, despite all the times they had to head to deeper waters in order to navigate around the larger towns with all their busy docks, and piers, and a set of locks.

Bit by bit, the skyscrapers and brick waterfront of Seattle slowly became closer. Before they arrived there, Neil guided them to a small cove overhung by forest, bringing the boat up to a rock just the right height for disembarking. The seal vanished; a moment later, an arm reached up to drape a pelt over the side of their boat. Neil now gazed at them, arms resting on the side of the boat. Meg began to giggle madly, while Penny signed behind her hand to Cait, "Want to look doooown," making Cait blush furiously while cuffing her.

"The Eagles practice on a meadow up over that rise –" he rose out of the water a bit as he turned away to point out a path twisting its way up the forested rise behind the beach. All three of the girls were reddening and even more giggly, but not about to complain about the view.

He turned back to them, again resting his arms on the edge of the boat. "They like to practice out there first thing in the day, before all the Muggle hikers hit the trail. It takes a while for the early-bird hikers to get to this part of Discovery Park. I hope you get a good visit in before your school catches up with you. Good luck!" He flashed another dazzling smile that about melted all three of them, before taking the pelt and vanishing into the water.

"I wanna marry a selkie when I'm outta school," goggled Meg. "Are there any selkies at BWIS? I gotta find out. Those regular guys sure suffer in comparison!"

Cait could see flashes of motion through the trees which immediately erased all thoughts of selkies, no matter how cute they were.

"C'mon," she told the others, as she set Nini on the rock, and jumped out. "We gotta get up there. Don't forget why we set out on this adventure in the first place! Let's get this boat out of water!" Trembling with excitement, she began pulling the boat out as soon as Penny and Meg were on land. Leaving the boat above the beach's high-tide line of seaweed, Cait clambered up the steep path up the slope, Nini running before her.

"Wait up! Wait up!" panted Meg and Penny behind her, as they struggled to keep up.

Now over the rise, the trees opened into a clearing, and Cait could see the entire team doing practice volleys, their coach signing comments up to them from the ground. A white board stood propped up nearby, covered with squiggles that looked like game plans. When the coach caught sight of the three bedraggled girls appearing over the rise from the beach, his hands intersected in the sign for "breaktime," and all the fliers paused in the sky to look down at them.

"Hi," signed Cait self-consciously, hand at forehead. "Deaf – all of you?" she queried in her rediscovered Sign.

From the sky, and from those who had already landed, thirteen fists nodded, "Yup!"

The rest of the broomball players now landed their brooms, as the coach approached Cait. "Deaf – you?" he queried with the same signs.

She nodded, and as she had been taught in fourth grade, signed "I – am – Hard-of-Hearing, I – am – C-A-I-T-L-I-N", spelling the letters slowly and clumsily with her right hand, as she'd not used fingerspelling for a long time. _Oh yeah, better introduce my friends_, she thought. Pointing at each girl in turn, she fingerspelled M-E-G, then P-E-N-N-Y, "my – friend – friend."

Realizing that she didn't have nearly enough signs to ask all the things she really wanted to say, she held up a finger, "Wait a minute," while groping in her pocket for her sketchpad. Not finding the pencil to go with it, she signed, "Question – question. People deaf – study where – M-A-G-I-C? How?" She then mimed waving her wand while casting a spell, and dropping it. "How?" she signed again.

The coach saw her perplexity, and held up a hand. "Hold on." Picking up the board with the game plan on it, he tapped it with his wand, and the markings vanished, then he made another wand-sweep at the whiteboard, along with a handshape which Cait didn't recognize. He now nodded, and fingerspelled, "OK," while stowing his wand and indicating the team members now lined up in the clearing. Pointing at the first player in line, a Nordic-looking blonde, he signed, "She's Lillian – graduated SMA. Seven years study – finished – we proud!" As he signed, the whiteboard displayed the words "Lillian, graduate of SMA's seven-year program. We're proud of her!"

He then proceeded to introduce the other members of the team, one by one. Lillian turned out to be the only seven-year graduate; the others had all stopped at Hedge level. Some of them had grown up using speech and lipreading in "oral" schools, and had only learned to sign later on. Others, like Cait, had grown up being "mainstreamed" in public schools, sometimes using Signed English. Three of the players belonged to Deaf families and had grown up using American Sign Language, the coach included.

Now he looked at Cait, eyebrows raised, and pointed at her. "And you?"

She began to sign clumsily, forgot half her signs, tried to improvise, and only got more confused.

The coach signed at her with flat hands, "Calm down – speaking – fine!" and gestured at the whiteboard.

Not sure of what to expect, Cait looked at the board, then the coach, and began to speak. "I have a lot of hearing." Whew – as she spoke, the words wrote themselves clearly on the whiteboard. "Went to public school, haven't met anyone deaf until now, and how did you keep the wand from falling from your hand when you were doing fancy handshapes a moment ago?" It felt so good to ask exactly the question that was in her head! "And how do you do magic? Are there special signs? Other than –" she dropped her sketchpad, and levitated it, using the V-K spell.

"We do the same," signed the coach. Then he held up his wand and opened his hand wide – the wand clung to his palm, as if he still gripped it. Pointing to the board, the words appeared, "Clingspell. Your wandmaker will know how to install it for you."

"So you all went to regular wizarding schools?" she asked, feeling more lonely than ever as they nodded. "There are no deaf wizarding schools?"

As everyone read the board, thirteen pairs of shoulders shrugged, thirteen faces showed looks of sympathy. Lillian reached for Cait's hand, and held it, then signed to Cait. As she did so, the board wrote out, "We persevered, and finished. Success! If you study and persevere as well, you too, will succeed. You can do it! There are Deaf people everywhere. It's up to you."

Then all the team-members were pressing her hand and giving her hugs; one curly-haired fellow put his cap on Cait's head, and then they were all back on their brooms, ready to practice.

The coach directed Cait's attention to the board again, and signed to her. "No, it's not easy being stuck in the mainstream. But you _can_ do it, and we'll be looking for you at our next East Coast game!" He pressed something into Cait's hand as he turned to watch the Eagles maneuvering overhead. Cait slipped the thing into her sleeve-pocket; she'd look at it later. Right now, she wanted to bask in the company of this team that flew, signed, looked like they were all such good friends, and were so welcoming to a stranger dropping in on them out of the blue. More and more things looked so possible all the time! She couldn't wait to sign as well as they could, and to find out how many other magical signing people were out there.

A tap on Cait's shoulder broke the reverie. "We're busted," moaned Penny.

Sure enough, there was another set of broomriders rapidly approaching them, a trio of riders in full, voluminous robes and tall hats. As they landed, Cait realized with dismay that they were the same three teachers who had fixed the front gate when she had messed up the "P'to'akh" spell earlier that year.

Worst of all was seeing the disappointment on Corwin's face as she approached and addressed Cait in a soft voice. "I'd expected better of you, Caitlin. All of you, where's the boat? We'll discuss this further when we're back in Salem."

Despite Corwin's disapproval, Cait wasn't sorry at all that she had followed the book out West. As they retrieved the boat, settled into it, and listened to the teachers calling up the Speed-Wind spell, Cait replayed every bit of the encounter with the Eagles in her memory, and wondered how she was going to go about finding the ASL-signing wizardfolk of the East Coast. She loved her family, she loved her friends, and she loved studying magic at SWI; but being around signers nevertheless felt like home.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6, Part 1 – Ole Jim‎

Chapter 6, Part 1 – Ole Jim

"I am most disappointed," repeated Lumen.

Caitlin now stood in Lumen's office. Lumen presided from behind her oak desk, flanked by Greatwood and Corwin. Penny and Meg had just been dismissed from the room; they were to be confined to campus for the rest of the semester.

As Cait's friends exited the room, casting worried backward glances, Greatwood laid a restraining hand on "the instigator's" shoulder; they were not yet done with her. A raven hopped and fluttered in the corner just beyond Greatwood. It was playing with some small object, and Cait had to keep reminding herself to keep her eyes on the headmistress, not the bird.

"Why?" Lumen asked her.

Thoughts swirled about Cait's brain as she stared at the grain of the oakwood just in front of Lumen. How was she going to explain it all to these Hearing teachers? That it was those effortless words flowing from hand to hand – they were what pulled her across country without waiting to fill out request forms and get parental permission and possibly be turned down. She _needed_ to be around that chatter which went so easily from hand to eye to brain! After all this time of excavating meaning from half-heard mumbles buried in flurries of chatter, this was the first time she had encountered conversation that could easily be caught. How would these people who had always heard and understood without effort going to understand that?

Besides, she was already getting the special V-K spellwork method, which looked like the same thing the other signers were taught.

Caitlin shrugged. Her voice felt tight, and tears were trying to form behind her eyes, but she swallowed them back with an effort.

"I don't know," she whispered, while unconsciously signing the phrase, right hand flicking out from her temple.

That whole team got to talk so easily with each other all day, but here she was, stuck at SWI with no other signers around, and Great Hall so full of noise, and incomprehensible teachers like Ms. Pitts – well there _was_ Ms. Corwin. She did try to understand Cait's point of view, but could she really? Cait glanced over at her. Corwin's face looked disappointed, but also puzzled. Cait's head sank again, eyes once more on Lumen's desktop.

Lumen's voice now continued. "Leaving campus without notice or permission. Three missed classes. Stealing school property." Cait's head snapped up at this – _that wasn't stealing, they were going to return the boat where it belonged!_ Greatwood put up her hand in warning: now was the time to listen, not speak. "Inducing fellow students to collaborate in this stunt. For the sake of a sports team whom you've never met." The trademark gaze met Cait's eyes, demanding explanation. "I presume this was not simply the escapade of a sports fan."

"They sign. They talk – _really_ talk – with their hands. I _had_ to go meet them." As Cait spoke, the words fell flat and limp, becoming flimsy and hollow. She looked down at the crimson wool of the carpet as tears of frustration began to spill out.

Silence.

The raven fluttered in its corner; Cait watched it as she choked back her tears. Lumen wordlessly drifted over to the ship's compass and regarded it for a few moments in deep thought, as Greatwood and Corwin looked on.

Cait composed herself and looked up. At that instant, Corwin, Greatwood, and Lumen exchanged a meaningful look, and then Lumen settled herself once more behind the oak desk. A decision had been made.

"You will remain on campus for the remainder of this semester, and will broomride only on campus, and only in the SWI courtyard," she pronounced. "When you are not in class or at meals, you will be in your dorm room. You may visit the library, but must notify Ms. Prost whenever you do so."

Lumen turned and signaled to the raven, which dropped its toy and strutted over to Cait, cocking its head to look at her with one eye, and then the other. Turning back to Cait, Lumen went on, "Poe will accompany you at all times. Of course, your parents have also been notified of this weekend's events. Expect to receive word from them as well."

As Cait trudged back to her dorm room, the raven strutting officiously beside her, she passed a group of third-years practicing their weatherworking. A tiny cloud hovered over each girl; as they spoke and flourished their wands, a gentle shower descended from most of the clouds. One girl did her spell with too much vigor, however, and got herself drenched. _My mood exactly_, thought Cait.

A girl who was helping dry off her soggy classmate caught sight of Poe, and the whole group began whooping and laughing. "Woo! First probation of the year," drifted over one of the voices. Cait couldn't get into Partridge Hall fast enough.

Even her room was no haven. Nini bristled and hissed as soon as she saw Poe, and spent all evening glaring at him from the top of Cait's wardrobe. Penny snorted in surprise. "Wow, I didn't know they'd give you an escort! You've got bad-girl cred, now. Gimme five!"

But Cait only flumped over to her bed. "They don't get it, they don't get it." Something in her sleeve poked at her. Pulling the pieces of paper out of her robe, she now read them at last. Tickets to the Eagles' game. Didn't matter; she was grounded. But having the tickets in hand brought back the vision of all of those signers descending from the sky to wave their hellos and sign to her. She knew that _they_ would understand, and always would. Back into her sleeve pocket the tickets went, pocket buttoned shut. Didn't matter what the teachers thought, she had this. And she pulled the Eagles cap more firmly on her head as she stared at the cracks in the ceiling and daydreamed herself back to Seattle.

Over the next two weeks, Cait trudged her way through classes and meals, hardly talking to anyone. Meg and Penny tried to nudge her into conversation, and Corwin gave her concerned looks during Spellwork class. Andrea took to clowning around in swim class whenever she was anywhere near Cait, and platefuls of cobweb cookies and muffins decorated with heart-enclosed "A"s began appearing at Cait's dorm room door. She did enjoy the treats, but they didn't do much to offset the snickers which followed her whenever people caught sight of the raven at her heels.

Even the sight of Yule preparations depressed her -- they only reminded Cait that she was that much closer to being back home where there was no magic-working at all, and the other kids all looked at her funny. And what if her parents were still mad at her? The school hawk had shown up on Sunday night as she daydreamed about forming an Eagles' broomracing team; her parents' words brought back the bleak mood of Lumen's office in full force. "What on earth were you thinking? You don't just take matters into your own hands that way. There are rules that have to be followed, and when you're different, you have to be even more careful to do everything the right way. You're supposed to be fitting in, remember?" Her mom did the writing, Cait could tell. "You have the chance to fit in and accomplish everything that normal people can. You're not like the ones who have to be sent to signing schools. Don't go and ruin your chances!" Nope, no chance of understanding there.

Why did her friends have to live so far away? Well, maybe she could figure out a trip to Fitchburg to see Meg, but Penny was all the way in Connecticut.

Then there was Andrea. Now she probably _wished_ she lived closer to Cait – she was up in Maine, hours away by both broom and car. Cait blushed as she remembered the West Coast selkies. Now, that was one thing Cait couldn't figure out. Why were all those cousins so drop-dead enthralling, but Andrea just so ordinary-looking? Pretty in an unformed sort of way, but nothing at all like the Orcas clan.

Cait couldn't help sneaking extra looks at the selkie during swim classes as she tried to figure it out; despite her efforts to be inconspicuous, Andrea only beamed and clowned all the more.

Even the weather matched those gloomy weeks. Snow was late in arriving – so far, they had only one dusting of snow, which had melted by the time Alchemy class had let out. Finals were approaching. It was Sunday night, and Cait and Penny now sat studying in their dorm room for their first set of exams: Alchemy, Greenwitchery, and Spellwork. The other exams, Astronologia, Mindcasting, and Zoomorphia finals were to be on Wednesday. Instead of her badly-neglected Greenwitchery book, however, Cait reached for her old sign-language text with its red-and-blue ABC on the cover. Staring at the front of the book, Cait spoke out loud, "So where are all these other signers? The Eagles told me you're out there, but where?" The round NAD logo at the bottom of the cover caught her eye as she threw the book down. NAD. She picked up the book again. What did that stand for? She flipped through the pages – there it was. National Association of the Deaf. This book was old, published way before she was born. Were they a boring bunch of grownups? Were any of them even magical? She wondered if there were any way to Mindcast a book. The SWI library had so little about signing. Wait a minute – the National Geographic Society had its magazine, and it wasn't boring at all. Maybe the NAD had a magazine, too? Library time.

"I'm going to ask Prost if I can go to the library," Cait announced to Penny, chafing at the inability to get up and go there whenever she wanted. Nini yawned and jumped down from the wardrobe to make herself comfortable on Cait's bed, glad to see Poe by the door, ready to escort Cait out. From the depths of her alchemy notes, Penny groaned, "Good luck, hope you do better than me. I'll be so glad when finals are done," and continued transcribing formulae.

Prost was in dog form in front of the dorm's fireplace, and nodded quick approval to Cait's request. Although the courtyard was not lit, just enough light leaked from windows and doorways for Cait to get her bearings, and she began walking to the library. As she went, she kept one hand within reach of the dormitory walls to keep her steady whenever her balance wavered in the dark. On her left side, Poe was only a black shadow as he coasted and paused, coasted and paused, sailing from branch to branch of the small trees which lined the courtyard's edges.

Once at the library, Cait went right to the periodicals room, carefully closing the door behind her only to see Poe winging into a frenzy of chasing the arriving and departing daily newsletters, ephemera charts, and evening newsflashes. Hoping the bird would stay distracted for a while, she stood under the portal, and told it, "NAD".

Nothing.

"National Association of the Deaf." Still no response.

"Deaf!"

One scroll winged towards her, followed by a handful of others. Cait sat down on a nearby chair, and the scrolls hovered around her. Taking ahold of the first scroll, she could see the letters DAR written on its outside page. DAR?? That stuffy muggle thing that her mom's aunts loved to brag about? She opened the pages of the scroll anyways, to find that the acronym really stood for "Deaf Alchemical Ring," and that it was located in Great Britain. Just a bit too far away. She set it down on the arm of the chair, and it winged away to its pigeonhole.

One by one, she looked at the other scrolls which hovered before her. All of them were DAR, except for the last one, which read WFDA. It opened up in her hand to reveal pages and pages of athletes from all over the world, smiling up at her with brooms in hand or posing with sailboats, some flashing the ILY sign or thumbs up, others using handshapes she'd never seen before. "Wizarding Federation of Deaf Athletes" read the banner at the top of the front page. The captions identified them as witches and wizards from Brazil, Cambodia, Nicaragua, Germany – _nothing boring here, that's for sure!_ thought Cait. She browsed the pages full of broomriders and weatherworkers from places she'd never imagined would have wizards or Deaf communities. The word "Washington" jumped at her as she flipped through – aha! Something from the States, at last. Turning back to that page, she saw a picture of a large half-timbered building, with a broomriding team standing before it, all waving the ILY sign. Below, the caption read: "The Belfry Bats of Ole Jim are pleased and proud to host the 2001 International Broomracing meet…"

_2001? That was quite a long time ago – what happened to the WFDA since then? And who was Ole Jim?_ The caption continued, "Regrettably, the famous cherry blooms of Washington DC have already gone by, but we are sure the international teams will enjoy the Southern hospitality on the Potomac all the same."

_DC! It's on the East Coast! But does this Ole Jim group still exist?_ Excitement bubbled within Cait, and she felt lighter than she had for days. She _had_ to get there. But how? During the school year, or after? By broom? By train?

As if he had the ability to Mindcast, Poe snatched the magazine from Cait's hands. He'd settled down some time ago and had been watching Cait sort through the flock of DAR scrolls; Cait glared in surprise and shock as the pamphlet reverted to scroll form. Poe began a game of flying up several feet, dropping the scroll, catching it, dropping and retrieving it again … all while keeping a firm eye on Cait.

Damn, being grounded stunk. Stink, stank, stunk.

How was she going to find out about this Jim guy? Maybe he was a really popular coach. Or some superstar athlete. Fat chance her parents' computer would pull up anything about the magical world while she was stuck at home. Maybe over Yule break she could figure out some good reason for them to take a trip to DC? Not that they could afford to travel; her parents were always going on about money being so tight.

As she stood up to go, the WFDA scroll zoomed back to its pigeonhole after Poe dropped it one more time.

Back at the portal, she told it, "Washington DC, November –" but as she spoke the words, bells rang and lights flashed. Closing time. Poe was now on the floor, flapping his wings against Cait's legs and adding his throaty "krrrk, krrk" to the general noise.

All the way back to the dorm, hope dispelled the gloom of the past two weeks. There _were_ other Deaf wizards on the East Coast. And as soon as this semester was finished, Cait was determined to go and find them.

With a shock, she realized that there were only five more days of probation left – finals had been so much on her mind that she hadn't realized how close they were to Yule Fest. The party was on the 21st – only five days away. Five more days! That she could handle.

Chapter 6, Part 2 – Mr. Gallaudet's book

Now that finals week had arrived, there was no time to find out about Ole Jim; everyone was too nervous to do anything but worry if they had studied enough to pull decent grades. For Cait, worries about finals were balanced by the fact that probation was nearly over. If she could help it, she would never again subject herself to the snickers that arose at the sight of the raven that accompanied her everywhere.

Cait had almost become accustomed to the chaos that awakened her each morning: Poe would jump on her pillow as the schedule-bearing dove or crow or chipmunk arrived, accompanied by growls and swats from Nini as she retreated from the foot of Cait's bed to the top of the wardrobe.

She'd also grown used to the way Poe would imitate the Spellcasting words in his gravelly voice. Fortunately, nothing ever resulted – "See what happens when you don't have intention?" Corwin would announce to the students with twinkling eyes whenever his throaty squawks distracted them from their study.

Thursday arrived with even more drama than usual, and not just because exams were over. The morning's schedule-bearing chipmunk was followed by a squirrel, and Cait had to laugh at the sight of Nini, torn between the urge to escape Poe by jumping to the wardrobe and the desire to chase the squirrel instead. Poe stepped aside as the squirrel delivered a note to Cait, which read, "Please present yourself at the Old House, Headmistress' office, 10 am today."

As they headed to Great Hall, Poe sailed from tree to tree with more than his usual vigor, hanging upside down from his branch to watch Cait approach before coasting to the next tree to repeat the stunt. Lumen actually smiled as the two entered her office, motioning for Cait to take a seat in the ladderback chair before her desk. As she did so, Poe marched back and forth between Cait and the desk as if on sentry duty.

"Congratulations on passing your first-semester exams," Lumen began. "The break from broomriding appears to have improved your studies. Corwin was quite concerned about your spellwork earlier in the semester, you know."

"Thank you," answered Cait. If Lumen wasn't even going to mention the Visual-Kinetic method, then Cait decided, why should she? There were so many people who had no idea that "listening up" was hard work for her.

"You seem to have suffered no ill effects from missing three classes," Lumen continued. Her expression demanded explanation.

"People were really nice. They shared their notes," Cait explained. As a matter of fact, as Poe stared and strutted, Claire had come smiling up to her at the end of Greenwitchery class and hinted that Astronologia and Zoomorphia notes could be had for a price._ Why would Claire need to sell anything to anyone? _wondered Cait_. She's already got pots of money!_ Cait held back giggles as she explained that she already had plenty of notes, "Thank you sooo much for asking."

"Concern, ha," said Penny, as they went off to Spellwork. "Bet she put wrong stuff into those notes, too." Cait nodded agreement and thanked the stars that she'd taken the time to look at the booklet which Andrea had slipped her that morning. It had taken two all-night study sessions to fully absorb the contents of that booklet – it contained detailed notes from all three of the classes that Meg, Penny and Cait had missed. It had felt like a party as the trio studied those notes in the dorm lounge, while Andrea smiled from a nearby armchair "in case they couldn't read her writing." It was the one bright spot in those weeks of Poe patrol.

Lumen appeared satisfied with Cait's answer and went on. "Next time you feel a need to go out of town during the school year, bring a proper request to Broadleaf. We are a school, not a prison, and there is no need to jailbreak. We do realize that there are occasional compelling reasons to be elsewhere while school is in session."

Again, she cast a steely look at Cait, who nodded and answered, "I'll do so, Ms. Lumen.."

"Good." Lumen nodded in acceptance. "I believe that Poe is more than ready to enjoy some personal liberty, which you also will not mind. Yes?"

Cait nodded, and Lumen signaled to the bird. Poe gave a loud "krrrrk" in answer, and took off flying around the room before dropping into the corner where Cait had first seen him and retrieving the toy which still lay there.

"Much better," murmured Lumen, watching the bird then turning to Cait. "You are free to go. Happy Solstice and Glad Yule to you."

"Glad Yule to you, Headmistress Lumen," answered Cait. Out the hallway and into the courtyard, her feet skipped with joy – same air, same weather, but such a different mood! She wanted to grab a broom and do sprints all over the courtyard right now – at least there was broomwork class today at three. But she had free time right now, and decisions to make. What to do first? Go downtown for fudge? Have a browse in her favorite bookshop? Watch the boats at the town dock? Tease the shopkeepers by making the Christmas-display manikins move when nobody was looking? Time to find Penny and Meg.

They were both in the Partridge Hall lounge, grinning from ear to ear. "We just got a chipmunk telling us the grounding's off, woohoo!" bubbled Meg, "and I can't wait to go into town and check out the view at Peppermill. Boys!"

"So what did Lumen say to you?" asked Penny as Meg checked her robes for cat hairs and snags, adorning it with a holly twig from the mantelpiece arrangement.

"Not a lot," replied Cait. "She's glad my grades are better, and glad to get Poe back, and I'm real glad to not have him around any more. Only a little lecture about getting permission to leave campus next time I need to. Hey Meg, what're you doing? We gotta wear Hide in Plain Sight clothes downtown -- it isn't October any more!"

Meg pulled a face, and the three girls were soon dressed in jeans, sweaters, and warm jackets, with only the nondescript firstyear caps remaining of their SWI garb.

By noontime, they were at Peppermill flirting with BWIS students. Cait bought a thank-you box of fudge for Andrea for all the note-taking and the help with Seattle, hoping the selkie wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Later, they strolled through the decorated downtown to their other favorite nonmagical shops, and Penny tossed a quick wandwave at a window full of plush-toy Santa's elves. One of the elves flipped upside-down and flew to the top of the window. Inside, the shopkeeper caught sight of the change in display, pointing and talking to a clerk, who now looked up at the window in complete confusion.

Exploding in giggles, the trio ran down the street to Cait's favorite bookstore, a place near Crowhame with overflowing bookshelves, calendars full of sunny beaches, cute pets, and swimsuited models of both genders in its windows.

As Meg and Penny ogled a calendar full of soccer stars, Cait wandered over to the part of the shop where the secondhand books were kept. As her gaze roved around the towering shelves of books, she wondered again just who "Ole Jim" was and how she was going to find him. A shelf label caught her eye: "Travel – US". Of course! People went to DC all the time as tourists. Maybe there would be books about the city here, and maybe even a picture of that building in the picture of the Ole Jim team. After all, that half-timbered thing looked like it should be in England -- how many buildings like that would there be in the US capitol?

Unfortunately, the books didn't seem to be in any particular order, with a book about the Ohio Valley next to "A Guide to Seminole Folkways." Think, think. Would the "boh-ee" spell work on a picture in a book? She looked around her for nearby Muggles. A few people on lunch break finished their purchases and hurried out the door. Coast was clear, but there wasn't much time. Cait retrieved her wand from the pocket she'd installed in her Hide-in-Plain-Sight jacket, held it before her, and visualized the picture she'd seen in the WFDA newsletter, concentrating especially on the building in its background.

Then she signed "boh-ee" and sent the energy.

Much to her shock, there was a small motion at the top of the overloaded bookcase. A clothbound volume inched out from under a stack of books, as the books around it swayed precariously. Cait reached out to keep the books from falling, but wasn't quick enough – three hardcover volumes crashed to the floor. Heads turned her way. Penny's eyes widened as she and Meg looked up from their calendar – "Wand away! Wand away!" Penny signed madly. A clerk rushed over, and Cait stashed her wand as he bent to pick up the fallen books. He then eyed the stack of books Cait still held steady with one hand.

"Which book do you want? You really should ask for help with those upper shelves."

"That hardcover up there with the yellowish spine," replied Cait, grateful that the clerk hadn't noticed anything unusual.

A hefty but not-too-thick book now sat in her hand, entitled _History of the College for the Deaf, 1857-1907_, written by Edward Miner Gallaudet. _Funny, this book sure looks new for something that only goes up to 1907!_ thought Cait. _Maybe Ole Jim went to school there? He must be really old. Time to find that building. _She flipped through the pages – aha, there it was! Page 142 showed the entire building in its half-timbered glory, pale wooden beams contrasting against dark walls. Under the picture was a caption, "The gymnasium (Ole Jim) in 1880."

Ole Jim's the building? Not a person?

The gym – Ole Jim. She groaned at the pun and felt like an idiot.

Penny and Meg appeared at her side. "Look at the time! We gotta go! Can't cut our last day of classes now that we're off the hook." nudged Penny.

"Wait'll you see this yummy calendar I got," crowed Meg, "I'll show you after classes. What's your book?" she asked, peering at the open volume. "Looks kinda boring."

Cait looked at the price penciled in the front of her book as they walked to the cashier. "Oh no, I can't afford this," she moaned. "20, and I've only got 15 left."

The cashier winked; he'd overhead the conversation. Pausing as if making a grave decision, he regarded Cait. "For you, 15. Merry early Christmas!"

Thoughts of her new book barged in during all of Mindcasting class, prompting Cait's classmate Minna to ask if Cait lived in the library or something because of all the book images she was sending.

Cait woke up the next day to a furry headbutt from Nini, who settled down purring on her chest. No more probation, no more Poe! She happily scratched the contented cat behind the ears. Tonight was the Solstice Banquet, complete with dress robes, and all day was free from classes. What could make this day any more perfect? There were rumors of ice sculpting in the courtyard, a Yule log right in the middle of Great Hall, and pyrotechnic broomraces.

A rustle of paper caught Cait's attention, and Nini's head swiveled around to the other side of the room. There was a blur in the air between desk and window. Then there was another blur – Cait followed the source of motion to see the last remaining library book atop Penny's desk lift up into the air. Its pages began to flap as if someone were flipping the pages, while bookmarks and pages of notes fell out of the book, and then zoomed spinefirst towards the window, becoming nothing but a blur which vanished just before hitting the glass of the windowpane. The same thing then happened to the Mindcasting book Cait had forgotten to return after finals, leaving scraps of notes all over the dorm-room floor before it, too, vanished. As another of her library books lifted itself from the desk and blurred itself out the window, Cait sat up to watch it go – but forgot all about the books as soon as she looked out.

Snow! Beautiful, perfect, sparkling, bright-white snow. She got out of bed to have a better look. Footprints left crisp impressions; powder shook off the tree branches with every breeze; crystalline flakes reflected back the early-morning sun with dazzling sparkles. Powder snow, bone-dry, perfect powder snow. The kind that shoveled up easily and didn't turn slippery and treacherous underfoot. Sledding and skiing snow. This day couldn't be any more perfect – sugar-coated like the sparkling top of a cobweb cookie.

Cait looked over at her roommate; only her nose was visible between pillow and covers. Impishly, she reached for her wand and "boh'ee'd" a few snowflakes through the birdflap to Nini, and giggled as the surprised cat snapped at the falling flakes. Then she sent a few more onto Penny's nose. A hand arose from the covers, flapping as if at flies, then Penny sat up, suddenly awake. "What the heck?"

Cait sent over a few more flakes. "Look what the weather sent us! It's perfect perfect perfect out! And we're not grounded! Yay!"

But Penny just groaned and rolled back under the covers. "Wake me up after they've shoveled out," she grumped, falling back asleep.

Cait couldn't believe Penny's reaction. It was absolutely perfect out! Then she thought of Meg – Meg would be up early. She'd been an athlete all through public school, and the habit had stuck. Cait wanted nothing more that moment than to see what all this snow looked like from the air – boomsprint time! Pulling on her heavy robe, boots, cloak and mittens, and making sure her wand was in its pocket, Cait took off for the dorm front door, and paused once outside. Which way to Meg's window? She was also on the first floor, on the other side of the dorm … peering through the corner pane, Cait could see Meg dressed and puttering at her desk. Perfect.

Cait "boh-lekh'ed" a few snowflakes through the birdflap to drift onto Meg's nose. Meg looked up at the ceiling in bewilderment, then caught sight of Cait at the window and shook a fist at her in mock anger. Cait stuck out her tongue, grinned, and signed, "US-two -- go upstairs – fly?"

Meg looked at her desk, considering. Then she enthusiastically signed "Yup!" to Cait as she reached for cloak and boots.

Once on the roof, it was truly as beautiful as Cait expected, and it felt wonderful to zoom back and forth freely with no more probation constraints.

Meg waved for Cait's attention. "Awright, you've still got your speed!" she proclaimed with a huge grin as they hovered over the center of campus and took in the view. It was still early in the day and the sun cast long blue shadows on half the courtyard below, while the other half shone diamond-dazzling bright. Some of the kitchen witches in their red hats were out and about, supervising the transport of mysterious crates and boxes into the kitchen while wanding scraps to Ms. Broadleaf's compost pile behind the garden between Circe Hall and the library. A delicious smell of baked goodies wafted from the Great Hall chimney: yeast bread, pies, cake – what other wonderful things would they get to eat later?

"Hey Meg," asked Cait. "Who gets those kitchen jobs?"

Meg shrugged. "Hedge-level witches, who decide that three years is enough magical schooling. Not everyone gets along with books as well as you and Penny. Wish I did."

Cait looked at her in surprise. "You do alright!"

Meg grimaced. "Yeah, thanks to a lot of late-night and early-morning dates with my books and notes. It looks so easy for you! I can't imagine a whole year of this, let alone three. But my folks want me to finish all seven years, and I don't want to be stuck with some old kitchen job." Meg changed the topic. "Let's fly some more! Race ya to the library!"

An odd feeling rustled inside Cait. Was Meg jealous of her? Reading had always been easy for Cait, but then again she needed the books more than most people did. How else was she going to learn anything in classes like Ms. Pitts'? She wondered what she could do to help out Meg.

By the time their growling stomachs drove them back to the dorm rooftop, upperclass ice-sculpture teams were setting up for the afternoon competition, and Penny awaited at her usual spot to walk with them to brunch.

Dressed-up parents began to trickle into the courtyard as competitors put final touches on their ice sculptures, which flashed and sparkled in the sun. Yule banquet was as spectacular as Cait had hoped, complete with a flock of roast turkeys and geese which flew from table to table. Cait chose goose, of course – when was goose ever an option during ordinary New England dinners?

For this banquet, the tables of Great Hall had been arranged around the edges of the room, and an empty hollow dipped into the center of the floor. Had that always been there? Or was it disguised or covered over during the rest of the year? Cait puzzled this over as a procession of brightly-robed faculty strode into the room and formed a circle around the hollow. All chatter ceased. Fourteen voices began a soft and simple tune, which grew in volume as the teachers' hands arose – a giant log now lay in the hollow. A tune with a different tempo began, and the log began blazing merrily, its smoke drifting upward to a small hole in the very center of the Great Hall roof.

With the flames came a burst of music as well; brass, strings, flute, drums. Where were the musicians? Penny grinned and pointed up; Cait's jaw dropped in surprise. Up in the rafters, a band of musicians sat suspended in air. She saw more drums and instruments than she could hear, and Cait laid her fingertips on the tabletop before her. There were the rest of the instruments: the pulse of the bass drum pulsed from the tabletop, as well as the buzz of tuba melody.

The tune still played in Cait's mind the next day as she packed her suitcase, exchanged addresses with Meg and Cait, and promised to write and visit during the long January break. Cait dreaded all the time away from SWI and her friends, but told herself that the vacation would give her plenty of time to read her new book and find out more about Ole Jim and this College for the Deaf to which it belonged.

At least she got in one more trip to Margin Alley, when her parents came to pick her up, before being stuck in the nonmagical world. The Clingspell that the Eagles' coach had recommended cost more than expected – one Adel to make it permanent on her chestnut wand. Cait's heart dropped. Where was she going to get that kind of money? At Cait's dismayed look, the wandmaker hastened to add that not all wands were worth the investment – some were appropriate for Hedge-level work only – but that hers would see her through all seven years.

Behind her, Cait's dad cleared his throat, and her mom's eyebrow rose: translation, please?

"That's about two hundred dollars," Cait explained. Her dad shook his head in disbelief, and her mom made ready to leave.

"You can also have a six-month version of the spell put on," the wandmaker interjected, "only one Orso to do that! It'll last until summer solstice."

"Can we do twenty dollars?" Cait asked of her parents. Miriam Leo had been halfway to the door, but she now turned around.

"Isn't your book money supposed to cover things like this?" she asked Cait.

Cait began to regret all the fudge runs to Peppermill. "I spent the last of it on this book about a college for deaf people in DC," she admitted, as she scuffed one toe on the shop's stone floor.

"That's right, there _is_ this place in DC." The shopkeeper's voice startled them. "The last time I did a Clingspell was for someone who was moving there, but I don't remember the name of the place."

Now Cait really couldn't wait to start in on that new book. "Can we do the Clingspell? Mom? Dad?" she asked. "It will make the Visual-Kinetic thing so much easier to do."

Her parents sighed in defeat, and her dad handed over a twenty. "Thank you, thank you! Be right back!" Cait shouted as she ran down the alley to exchange it for an Adel.

By they'd reached central Massachusetts, Cait had skimmed the whole book, read half of it thoroughly, and learned that this college had been named after a man called Gallaudet – not the one who'd written this book, but his father. She looked at the front of the book again as the car left the highway and approached town. Published in 1982, Gallaudet University Press. Wow, a university now! It must be huge. She flipped through the book, looking for anything magical, but finding nothing at all. If it were a nonmagical school, then what were the broomracers doing at Ole Jim? Playing tourist? Or doing a very, very good job of Hiding in Plain Sight?

"We're here, scholar-girl!" proclaimed her dad as the car pulled into their driveway; Nini yowled from her carrier in response. Cait stuffed the book into her bookbag and grabbed Nini's carrier. Opening the car door, she stopped, spellbound, as soon as she caught sight of the many tiny white lights which twinkled from the front-yard maple and the house's windows.

"That's so beautiful!" she sighed, taking in the holiday decorations. Her parents beamed. With a pang, she remembered the menorah that some of her dorm-mates had lit, and that she herself had completely forgotten to look up which days Chanukah fell on this year; her mom had always lit the little candles at home. Well, she _had_ been a bit preoccupied with being grounded at the time. She missed the potato pancakes, though, and wondered if her mom felt lonely lighting candles with just her dad.

"Hey mom, can we have potato pancakes even though Hanukah's over? With sour cream?" Miriam Leo gave her daughter an extra hug as they walked into the twinkling-lit house.

The next two days were full of tree-choosing, cookie-baking, gift-wrapping, and long rides to admire the extravagant light shows adorning some of the local houses. Cait took every opportunity to show off the advantages of the Clingspell on her wand as she wanded lights up to the highest tree branches, or made the coffeepot refill her surprised mother's mug. Best of all was being able to smuggle presents into unreachable places, making it Cait's job to fetch presents back down from the tops of tall cabinets and windowsills as her proud parents and aunts watched. Aunt May, especially, wanted to see repeat performances of the "boh-ee" spell, making Cait summon cookies and coffee once the gifts were in everyone's hands.

The Dingle's crow tapped on the Leo's kitchen window on December 24, bearing a little box for Cait. Inside it sat a tiny bush with dark-green leaves, that released chocolate drops at random times throughout the day. The next day, the Ainslee falcon showed up with a long tube containing a poster of the Seattle Eagles flying in formation and throwing quick signed greetings at the viewer.

Of course the birds didn't return empty-clawed – Cait didn't have anything magical to send, but was getting quite good at baking fancy cookies. She sent a large boxful of her prettiest confections to each of her friends, wrapped up in plenty of plastic, duct-tape, and a Shedwater spell. She also attached a sturdy twine handle, so there'd be no chance of bird claws puncturing the package.

Not until after New Year's, when the family parties and holiday festivities were over, did time away from the magical world begin to drag, and Cait counted down the days until the beginning of the new semester. Her sketchpad filled up with drawing after drawing of broomriders, schooners, and people from school. "Just who is that good-looking boy?" queried Miriam Leo as Cait blushed and leaned over the nearly-complete portrait of Neil from Seattle.

"Nobody," she muttered, pushing the sketchpad under one of the many piles of manuscripts (her mom's), holiday letters, and bills scattered on the coffeetable.

"Have it your way," her mom replied with a shrug, "but you might not want to miss this contest." She dropped a copy of a glossy magazine onto Cait's lap; it bore the title, _Odyssey_.

_Just another big-headed good-will special-ed blurb_, thought Cait as she picked up the magazine and opened it to the bookmarked page. At the top of the page she read, "Gallaudet National Essay, Art, and Sign Contest." Gallaudet?? She looked over at her mom, who was busy keying her latest manuscript into the family computer. Cait continued reading. First prize: 1000. Whoa, not bad at all! Then she read further. Shoot, no – that was only for ages 15-19. What about the other age ranges? There it was, prizes for ages 9-14 – no fair, that first prize was only 100! Still, that _would_ pay for half of the permanent Clingspell on her wand. Further down the page, the announcement read: "Art entrants will have their work considered for display in the art gallery on the campus of Gallaudet University." There it was – she now had a ready-made reason to go there! Provided that she was able to produce a piece of art worth giving one of those prizes to. She had to do this. The deadline was February 8 – Cait had the whole rest of the month to create something. What could she draw that would get her that prize? It had to be something great – no, magnificient.

Miriam turned from her manuscript and smiled as Cait rifled through her earlier pages of drawings for inspiration. "You'll also need this -- don't lose it, and don't forget to fill it out!" She handed an entry form to Cait.

Chapter 6, part 3 – Broomball in Sign.

Cait admired the drawing one more time before nervously putting it between sheets of cardboard, then into the padded envelope her mom had ready. The contest theme was "Yes, I Can!". Cait's first response was "Hokey, hokey, ick," but as she worked on the picture, she began to enjoy it more and more.

The picture portrayed Cait smiling and wearing the fanciest robes she could imagine, fancier than Lumen's dress robes. She stood atop an enormous stack of books, and held a wax-sealed scroll in one hand. She wished she could include the tall, pointed seventh-year hat, but she didn't want to risk the Muggle judges thinking she'd misunderstood the theme. A star chart behind her had a big, red "A+" on it – they'd hopefully think she was a budding astronomer. A botanical sketch beside it also bore a big "A", as did sheets marked "Essay" on its other side. Atop two more stacks of books stood smiling renditions of Penny, on her right, and Meg, on her left, each girl also with a wax-sealed scroll in hand. _Meg's the one who really needs this theme_, thought Cait, sorry that she couldn't at least include a broom in this picture. Behind the trio were three pairs of Grecian pillars in the background, labeled "College", "Advanced College", and "Doctoral Dissertation." Cait's mom always did a lot of complaining about her dissertation, so Cait decided it must be a really big "I can" sort of thing.

Cait slipped the picture out of the envelope to have one last look at it. She pulled out her wand and put a good-luck charm on it. _Now_ it' was ready to travel.

And so was she. February 3 was tomorrow – time to drive to Boston. This time, the firstyears would travel to SWI by ordinary train, since they all now knew how to get to campus by themselves. The weather was no longer suitable for boating, and many New England schooners wintered in the Caribbean. Despite that, the _Schoodic_ remained in Salem Harbor. Even if weatherworkers couldn't turn tides, there were ways to enable winter sailing. "Remember 1692," was almost as ironclad a rule as Hide in Plain Sight at both SWI and BWIS.

Cait now sealed the envelope and stuck on the set of stamps her mom had given her, and began write the address. Realizing that the address was trapped inside the sealed envelope, she dashed over to the family computer to look it up there. Holding the envelope, Cait sat by the front window to await the mail truck, wishing she could just send for a Broomcourier instead, especially if they were able to do that Speedwind spell.

Then she remembered what else was supposed to happen in February – the Eagles game! What day was that? She had to go look at the tickets – no, she didn't want to miss the mail truck. Cait fidgeted on the wingchair by the front window until the mail-carrier arrived, and the precious envelope was swapped for the day's mail. Dumping the mail on the chair, Cait barreled up to her room, threw her suitcase open, and retrieved the tickets from her robe's sleeve pocket. She took a moment to admire them, remembering the swoops and turns of those expert flyers above their practice ground in Seattle. Then she read the date on the slips of paper. Sunday, February 10, 2008, New York City.

This time she was going to be good, good, good, and get off campus the official way. All the "i"s dotted, all the "t"s crossed.

"Mom! Dad!" Cait leaned over the top of the stairs and yelled, "I gotta get a note to go off campus during the first school weekend!" She really wished she had a message bird so that she could send notes to Penny and Meg – did they remember that the game was on February 10? Had they already made other plans? At least she'd be seeing them in person soon. Real soon!

Soggy snow and a gray day didn't dampen Cait's spirits in the least during the drive to Boston. The chilly wait at North Station for the Salem-bound train, the reunion with her friends -- who had indeed both remembered the game -- and the slushy walk to SWI were all made easier with surreptitious melting charms for the sidewalks, warming charms for hands and feet, and hover charms for heavy suitcases, which Corwin had taught them during the last day of first-semester class.

When Cait went to Old House to get permission to go off-campus for the Eagles game, she was relieved to find Greatwood, rather than Lumen, on duty. The silver-haired witch perused the note from Cait's parents and nodded. "I'll be glad to sign this once you've arranged for an adult chaperone to accompany you there and back."

Chaperone?

Greatwood frowned at Cait's startled expression. "You should know the contents of your student handbook more thoroughly by now. Please review the section about weekend permissions on page 30; your parents appear to already know it quite well. We don't allow below-Hedge students to travel out of Salem without the company of a responsible of-age member of the magical community." She paused. "May I also remind you that below-Hedge students are also not permitted solo broom flights; if your chaperone can't provide transportation, then we will consider loaning you one of the school boats, for a fee. But we must know this as soon as possible. Good day, and let me know as soon as you've found a chaperone." Greatwood turned her attention to a rustling stack of papers which had lain silent during her conversation with Cait.

Great Hall at supper was as noisy as ever, but Cait was sure to bring and use her trumpetvine – she wasn't about to be left out of any conversations now, when they had so little time to get their New York plans together. Cauldrons of corn chowder cruised the hall; Cait thanked the stars that people were at least not crunching noisy food tonight.

"So, can your sister help us out?" asked Cait, but Meg only shook her head. "No way. She really wants to go, but she's stuck in Mexico, something about a mudslide. I'm waiting for word from Merle, maybe he can go with us."

The acoustic vine shifted over to Penny, on Cait's other side. "Maybe one of us could disguise ourselves as an of-age person and pretend our real self is sick on campus while the other two of us go to the game."

Meg's eyes lit up. "You know how to do that? Can you really hold a glamour that long already? I can't get one to stay put for more than ten minutes in Zoomorphia observation. I get so tired of animals spooking when the glamour drops. What've _you_ been up to all January?"

"We can't risk it!" Cait's heart thumped. What if she – they – got in trouble again, and she never got to see Ole Jim and find out why this deaf team got to pose on a nonmagical campus? "I can't get grounded again, there's this other school I have to get to. I think they've got signing Deaf wizards there."

Penny sighed. "But it was such a great adventure last time! I bet we could pull it off."

"Yeah, well you didn't have Poe shadowing you everywhere for weeks," retorted Cait.

They ate their chowder in silence, hoping that Bosso would soon show up with good news. Cait fumed. _It wasn't supposed to be like this!_ She should be telling them all about the art contest and Ole Jim and the international athletes, not feeling like a wet-blanket adventure-killing wuss.

As they were finishing their dessert, Bosso winged into Great Hall, barely missing Meg's bowl of chocolate-mint pudding as he landed on the table. The trio held their breath as Meg unrolled and read the note from BWIS. "Count me in! I've had a ticket to that NY game ever since November. I'll be meeting up with my buddies in the city, but can get you from Salem to New York and back. Send Bosso right back to me, so I can let SWI know! But first tell him he's a good bird and give him plenty of treats. Love, your big bro Merle."

Whoops and high-fives lifted the mood, and they finished the meal bubbling over with chatter of how much fun they were going to have in New York.

Then, as she'd been imagining all January, Cait told her friends about her drawing with all three of them in it, the contest it was going to, the Deaf university in Washington, the WFDA picture of the Deaf athletes posing there, the new Clingspell on her wand, and the hopes that prize money could help make it permanent.


	7. Chapter 7 part 1 of 3

Chapter 7, part 1 – Eye and hand

Chapter 7, part 1 – Eye and hand

Merle showed up as promised after supper on Saturday night, and their canoe-flight to the city was uneventful. When the canoe began to descend, Merle paused from pitching Daydark powder around them, sent a series of shoulder taps from Meg to Penny to Cait, then pointed downwards, while holding one finger to his lips. Diamond-dazzling lights traced the spans of bridge after bridge below them; the motion of car headlights twinkled among the steady warm glow of streetlights, as they appeared and disappeared behind towering buildings full of lights of their own. So many buildings! Cait felt dizzy trying to count how many people must live in all these towers. Odd shadows loomed on the flat tops of some of the buildings, round peaked shapes. Cait wondered what these were for. They reminded her of silos, but in a city? Then Merle was back to tossing Daydark around them – safety was more important than sightseeing.

The canoe veered to the right towards one of those skyscrapers and descended some more; they were now landing on a roof, in the shadow of one of those silo-like things, where two softly-glowing tents awaited them. Tents in February? Cait shivered. _They were going to freeze in there!_ Car-horn honks, sirens, and loud music floated up from below. _How would they ever sleep?_ Three robed-up wizards in Eagles caps now piled out of one tent, whooping and high-fiving Merle while excitedly chattering about the game.

As Meg, Penny, and Cait stepped out of the canoe, a smiling witch emerged from the other tent and approached them. "You don't know how glad I am to have somebody to talk to other than my doofus brother and his buddies over there!" She grimaced to the boys. "Let me show off your quarters – lots better from the inside than out!" Sure enough, the tent was both roomier and warmer than Cait had feared, and as the door-flap fell shut behind them, the traffic sounds vanished as well. How did they do all that? Cait wondered if by her seventh year at SWI, she too would know how to run all the spells that must be keeping this tent warm and quiet, but was too tired to ask about any of it now.

All too soon, Penny was poking her awake, and the smell of toast, coffee, and fried eggs filled the tent. Well-fed, and with Plain-Sight glamours hiding their robes, the girls strode after Merle and friends down an unbelievably crowded sidewalk, following them into a dingy alleyway between two tall brick office buildings. Here, the crowds were even worse, and at Merle's lead, the three girls let the crowd push them over towards the right-hand wall. There, an updraft very much like the astronomy dome's upchute whisked them upward with no warning, and deposited them right into the middle of a rooftop stadium. Glowing numbers hovered over seating sections, and people lost no time in finding their seats and settling in. In the center of the stadium, a pink haze hovered above a field full of the same plushy plant that filled their own courtyard at SWI.

Cait shivered with delight as she sat in the middle of a noisy crowd in the midst of a very noisy city, debating in Sign with Meg about whether pretzels or hot chestnuts were better for cold days. Broomriding vendors hovered overhead, towing displays of all kinds of food and drink. Cait had never tasted roasted chestnuts before, but she now proclaimed them to be, "Best! The best!" with her hand sweeping thumbs-up from her chin, while Penny rolled her eyes and counted out coins for the snowbane-spiked hot chocolate that was being wanded her way. Blurs of motion surrounded them: people settling into seats; the sweeps of food descending to customers, and money ascending in return; broad swoops of people flying overhead. So much fun to not be shouting above the honking horns and loud engines of the city! Why hadn't she met signing people long ago?

As Cait picked up her hands to ask Penny what she'd just bought, the gaze of a skinny-faced man two seats over caught her attention – he was following their conversation. She put her hands down, and Penny turned her head to see what Cait was looking at. The man ducked his head a little and signed, "Sorry – you two – think I'm rude – myself Deaf." Then he was signing a "J" on his bicep – that was his namesign -- and introducing his family, then pointing out other members of the Deaf magical community who he knew in the audience.

Sure enough, as soon as he began pointing out other Deaf people, flurries of signing seemed to be all over the stadium and Cait began to wonder how she could possibly have missed the motion of all those conversing hands. Exhilaration filled her. So many people who signed, _and_ were magical! Even though she couldn't understand most of the signing, it fillled her with happiness just to watch it. Oops, _should_ she be staring at their conversations? Eavesdroppng on spoken conversation had never really been an option for her, and she had no idea how much eavesdropping would be tolerated among signers. She brought her attention back to the skinny-faced man. Then a blur of bright red drew her attention as a witch wearing a Gallaudet sweatshirt and pointy hat pushed her way to a seat two rows below Cait. Gallaudet – the picture from the WFDA newsletter sprang before her mind's eye. What kind of team had been in that picture? Might this woman know?

Turning to Skinny Face, Cait signed, "Her – you know?" pointing to the woman in the red shirt.

He looked, shrugged, and asked Cait, "You want – you-two – chat?" and asked someone in the row below to get Red-Shirt's attention before Cait could tell him, "That's OK, don't bother."

Red Shirt turned around, exchanged a few signs with Skinny Face, then gave her attention to Cait. "Student – you?" she asked.

Cait could barely sit still for excitement. Two rows away, and here she was having a conversation; easily, no trumpetvine, no guessing! She signed to Red Shirt, "People – magical – go school – Gallaudet?"

Red Shirt's eyes lit up in a smile very much like Corwin's as her fist nodded, "Yup!" Then she took off her tall hat, fished around inside it, and wanded a pitch-black card with gold letters up to Cait. Or it looked as if she did the spell – but did she have a wand? Cait wasn't sure if she'd seen one. But as soon as she saw the card all other thoughts vanished. It read: Jessica Stern, Signspell mentor, Belfry Bats.

Belfry Bats! Hadn't she seen that name before? A blur of motion in Cait's peripheral vision – Red Shirt, um, Jessica, was motioning Cait to turn the card over. As she did so, new letters appeared: "For full information about Belfry Bats' support of mainstreamed witches and wizards, send a crow to Ole Jim, Gallaudet University."

Cait grinned and nodded her fist in return. "Yes – yes!"

Then Meg was poking Cait – time for the game to begin. Cait put that card safely in her sleeve pocket and watched the Eagles swoop into the playing space. As the game proceeded, Cait remembered that most of the Eagles had stopped at Hedge level. Did they have any idea there was such a thing as the Belfry Bats? But then a spectacular volley drove all school thoughts out of her head. She and Meg tried to count how long the players kept the ball aloft before the Eagles captured their point. Twelve volleys? Fourteen?

And many such moments later, but all too soon, Merle was rounding them up and they were canoe-flying their way back to Massachusetts.

As soon as she was back at SWI, Cait wrote a note to the Belfry Bats, and then raced to the Partridge-Hall roof to find a bird to carry it to DC. A crow was soon carrying it into the night sky, black on black. She couldn't wait to find out what exactly the Belfry Bats did and how they did it. But at least she wasn't completely alone among all the hearing people at SWI anymore! Inside that note was not only the request for Belfry-Bat assistance, but also a suggestion. Why don't the Belfry Bats follow the Eagles' games, and ask the Eagles if they can drop Belfry-Bat cards into the stadiums? Cait would dearly have loved to know about the Bats last November.

With the new semester came changes in some of their classwork.

The weather had turned unseasonably mild, and Ms. Broadleaf had sent the Greenwitchery class to the corner garden to find the first greening sprouts of Snowbane, which was sturdier than horseradish and hotter than habanero peppers. It was so hot that little circles of melted snow puddled around each of the sprouts. "Collect no more than _one_ seedling apiece, and wear gloves!" were Broadleaf's exact instructions.

They were finally allowed to perform their first transformations in Spellwork, turning eggshells into seashells, and back.

And their broomwork class now included night flying.

The first class was bad enough – Cait couldn't stay on at all, despite Greengage's addition of extra stabilization charms onto her broom. When the next night's class went no better, Cait fumed as she sat on the ground watching the other students zip back and forth overhead; she was formally excused from night-flying until Greengage figured something out.

She was still grumpy about it the next morning as Meg consoled her over breakfast the next morning. "Look on the bright side. Maybe they'll let you have a canoe early!"

A white blur caught her eye. A dove? Fluttering above her plate, the dove dropped a red box into Cait's lap and sailed out of Great Hall again. Grumpiness vanished as Cait opened the box. Fudge! "Chocolate pecan from The Peppermill," read the writing on the box. But who outside of Cait's family knew that she didn't eat walnuts? A slip of airy rice paper lay nestled between the pieces of fudge; on it was a series of three red-inked hearts and the sentence, "To the best daylight-flyer in the class of 2014. A."

Penny and Meg both whooped and signed "sweetheart" at her as Cait's face grew hot. She remembered that it was Feb 14th today. Duh.

She looked around Great Hall – yup, there were more bird couriers winging around than usual. To her surprise, a small hawk of a kind she didn't recognize coasted through the hall, leaving a flat, oval package at Cait's place as it perched on the back of a nearby chair. In the return address was inked, "Belfry Bats, Ole Jim, DC". As she picked it up, Cait's fingers sank into thick padding.

At that same moment, familiar twin shapes flew past a nearby window and up to the cupola. An instant later, the bell rang for class. With a sigh of relief, Cait remembered that it was Thursday – they didn't have to run off to morning classes.

As the room cleared out, Cait untied the twine around the package and removed the layers of paper and padding. An oval piece of glass in a dull-bronze frame lay inside; some sort of mirror? But it was far too dark to be a mirror, and why would the Bats send her a mirror, or a picture frame, or whatever this was? A book was with it as well, but she couldn't read it – its script was none of the ones on Corwin's walls.

A note fluttered from the book's pages.

"Dear Caitlin Leo:

Thank you for your excellent suggestion concerning Belfry-Bat outreach! We will definitely contact the Eagles with this suggestion. Please set this mirror up in a convenient spot in your dorm room – on your desk would be ideal – and be in front of it this Sunday at 3pm. Barring conflict, this will be our regular lesson time. With power of eye and hand,

Jessica Stern."

All three girls gazed at the smooth, dark surface of the mirror.

"My mom has one of these," ventured Penny, "but I've hardly ever seen her use it. It was really for Gramma since Mom would rather just send a crow to people."

"But what IS it?" asked Cait.

"It's to talk with, long distance, face to face," said Meg, touching the frame delicately with one finger. "I've heard of one, but have never seen one before. They're really pricey and it takes a lot of spellwork to set it up right. Can we be there on Sunday when it does whatever it does?"

"Sure," said Cait. "That's what friends do, right?"

Then conversation turned to the snow-rabbit observations that were due the next day in Zoomorphia. Nobody had liked the idea of having to watch white rabbits against white snow, and the whole class had been near mutiny when the assignment was announced. As Penny and Meg complained about the homework, Meg smirked as she polished off the last of her pumpkin muffin.

"How come _you're_ not complaining about the homework? Did you cheat?" accused Cait.

Meg broke into the guffaws she'd been containing. "It was easy! All I had to do was Mindcast, and there's the bunnies. I wondered if you two would ever figure it out. C'mon, let's go observe some rabbits."

Sunday afternoon, Cait sat at her desk, fidgeting nervously as she checked for the tenth time that the mirror was securely propped up before her. Penny had pulled over her own desk chair and sat on it backwards, chin resting on the chairback, while Meg perched on the corner of Cait's bed. Nini napped on Cait's pillow, oblivious to their excitement. Cait had put her clock near the mirror so that she wouldn't have to take her eyes off the mirror to watch the time. As the minute hand slid onto "twelve", a swirl of motion began within the mirror's surface, black on black, a gentle shifting, until Jessica's face became visible, white on gray on back, and then colors filtered in slowly along with details of both face and background. This time she wasn't wearing a hat, and her dark, wavy shoulder-length hair was tied back in a ponytail.

Jessica waved a cheery hello at Cait, but then peered around with a questioning look, and signed, "All three-of-you – deaf?"

Cait answered, "My friends – Meg – there – Penny – there. Hearing – hearing. Curious – this mirror."

Jessica leaned back, chewing her lip and frowning slightly.

"My _good_-friends," signed Cait, stressing their close friendship by tightening the handshapes of the sign for "friendship" close to each other, making her index-finger knuckles ache. "Two-of-them learn sign," she added.

Jessica now shrugged and leaned forward again. She waved at a board beside her which read, "Lesson One;" it contained some of the mysterious writing Cait had seen in her new book.

"The book?" queried Jessica, looking about as if trying to see Cait's room. Cait grabbed the new book from her desk shelf as Jessica nodded. A wand was now in Jessica's hand, and she pointed out a quill which lay on a table before her. The board displayed the word "boh-ee" and a squiggle of the new script. Jessica did a gesture which looked like the ASL sign "to come here," but with handshapes which Cait had never seen before. The quill flew smoothly from tabletop to Jessica's hand. Jessica then demonstrated that unfamiliar handshape to Cait, and showed how to read the squiggly writing which indicated exactly what the handshape was, and which motion to use with it.

Three signspells later, Penny remembered a paper she needed to rewrite and pushed her chair back to her own desk. A moment later, Meg decided to go practice her Zoomorphia homework.

Cait, still fascinated with this new spellcasting method, didn't at all mind waving them off. This was way better than the Visual-Kinetic method! No clunky pause in between writing the word and sending the energy. Here, the sign and the energy looked like they were all one piece as Jessica's hand formed the spells.

Cait couldn't wait to try it out for herself. Finally, after showing Cait a fifth spell, Jessica swept an "L" handshape off her chest and in Cait's direction. "Your turn." Then she added, "Number one," and gestured at the board with its list of five signs.

Looking around her desk, Cait picked up a cat toy which Nini had batted onto her notebook, and placed it before her. Making the new handshape, she performed the signspell, and the toy flew right into her hand. This was great! It felt as easy and fluid as using the ASL signs itself. _This_ was what she had been wanting to do all along. And there wasn't even any danger of repeating the "I hate Amanda" broom-tumble. Talk about having her cake and eating it too!

Jessica grinned at the obvious delight on Cait's face and pointed to the next sign on the list. The rest of the hour flew by all too quickly, and the color began to fade from the mirror as Jessica hastily signed, "See you – next week!"

And the mirror now showed only the reflection of Penny's back as she rewrote her Mindcasting essay.

After five minutes of copying the new signspells into her notebook, Cait wondered if she was supposed to use these new spells in Spellwork or if she'd be stuck with the Visual Kinetic ones. Gazing at the blank glass before her, she spoke, "Hey Penny, how does your mom work this thing?" then turned to face Penny.

Penny turned from her paper, frowning as she thought. "There's a spell to catch the other person's attention, but I don't know what it is."

Dang. Gotta send a crow. Or go ask Corwin. _Nah, I'll send a crow to Ole Jim_, Cait decided.

But Corwin beat her to the punch. "I'm so glad to hear about you and the Belfry Bat outreach!" she beamed as Cait stepped into the Spellwork five minutes early the next day. "If you're ready, why don't you show us the Belfry Bats' version of the "boh-ee" spell? I'm sure it's quite different from the Visual-Kinetic one."

At Cait's look of surprise, she added, "Farsight mirrors don't get sent around to just anybody, let alone to students! Ms. Stern was thoughtful enough to inform the administration well in advance that she had plans to send you one. And I for one heartily approve. So, let's see your new spell!"

As Cait demonstrated, the rest of the class arrived and settled into their desks. Corwin nodded at Cait to take her seat, and announced, "Let's play, everyone! The ice-water-ice spell on page 97, please!"

Despite the ease of the spellwork, something felt wrong in the classroom that day. People were whispering behind their hands, and Cait could see quick looks being tossed her way. Oh no, was this going to be "weirdo Carrie" all over again? Or did she have a big, giant D on her forehead now? But there were no teases and no taunts, and the rest of the day's classes were completely uneventful.

Over the next several Spellwork classes, Cait began to get the best grades she had ever received of any class, public-school or magical. But the glares – yes, they were glares, not just glances – continued, and she could still see gossip going on behind people's hands. Over broomsprints, Meg reported that they were all calling her "teacher's pet" and talking about some "unfair advantage."

And she could barely study in her own room anymore – people were constantly stopping by to have a look at "the Farsight mirror everybody's talking about."

At first it was fun to show off the mirror to Meg's roommate, and the Big Sister she forgot she had, and to Andrea, and to her other classmates.

But by the time the Magenta Trio stopped by to see it for themselves, Cait was feeling uneasy. Why did Amanda look so disapproving like that? And Claire looked like she was up to something.

Cait figured that the mirror probably had a few protection charms on it already, but decided to add a couple of spells from the back of her spellbook just to be on the safe side. Then she put on a spot hex for good measure. Wrapping the mirror in her extra winter scarf, Cait slid it in among her textbooks. Nobody could accuse her of being a show-off now.

But the following Sunday, when Cait sat at her desk ready for her next lesson with Jessica and reached for the mirror, there was nothing inside the neatly-folded scarf. Panic gripped her gut; she sat for a moment in shock. Did she move it somewhere else and forget?

"Penny," she asked, pulse jumping at her throat, "Did you borrow the Farsight mirror to talk to your mom or something?" She didn't think that Penny would mess with it, but thought she'd better ask.

Penny shook her head. "I wouldn't even know if you _can_ use a mirror set up for someone else," she answered with a worried tone.

Anger began to rumble inside Cait. She resisted the urge to pitch a fit and start throwing things. Think, think. Who would take the mirror? Somebody jealous? Somebody greedy? Somebody who thought that scholarship girls shouldn't own such high-end things?

The Magenta Trio certainly didn't need to steal anything from anybody – they had enough money to buy whatever they wanted.

Maybe it was somebody who was trying to impress the Magenta Trio – somebody who couldn't afford such things. Meg's roommate – she was always hanging around the Trio. Cait tore out the room with Penny following, and raced to Meg and Violet's room. The door was open, and they looked up in surprise as Cait burst in and scanned the room – no sign of the mirror, no sign of spots on anyone.

"What are you doing?" burst out Meg.

"I can't find my Farsight mirror, and I need it now!" shouted Cait.

"Well I didn't take it!" blurted out Violet.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned on her. "Why would you?" asked Meg.

"Well, that's why I wanted to go see yours," Violet addressed Cait. "It impresses people, they think you're rich if you know about Farsight mirrors. But I didn't touch yours!"

Cait nodded – there were no sign of spots on Violet, and she knew that her spot hex worked. When she'd put the spell on her fresh-cut quills to find out why they kept disappearing last semester, she woke the following morning to find a pink-spotted cat and a half-chewed feather at the end of her bed.

So who did this?

Elsbeth had no reason to. Amanda? She hated being in the same school with "no-talent plebs", but would she actually take the mirror? After all, there was that Daydark stunt. But she only got that way with sports, she didn't seem to care about classwork so much.

Claire – Claire was always mouthing off in Spellwork, and she thought she deserved better grades. Maybe Claire was jealous of Cait's good Spellwork grades – jealous enough to do something about it!

"Where's Claire's room?" Cait demanded. Violet looked like she wanted to disappear.

"Across the hall, four doors to the right," she whimpered as the three girls barreled out the room.

As soon as Claire's door opened, Meg burst into guffaws and Penny into snorts. Spots!

Claire's face was covered with them, bright pink and obviously hexed, as she sat with a surprised look at her desk, wand still in hand from the door-opening spell.

Cait stormed up to Claire and grabbed for the mirror ostentatiously propped up in the middle of Claire's desk. But Claire moved with equal speed, turning and keeping a firm grip on the mirror's frame.

"I'm bringing this back to you, promise!" Claire pleaded. "I needed to learn how it works, see, it's already beginning to work for me!" Sure enough, swirls were gently winding their way within the surface of the darkened glass.

"It's not working because of you, it's working because somebody is trying to contact me right now," growled Cait. "Haven't you wondered why you have those spots?"

"Spots?" puzzled Claire, looking at the mirror over her dresser, and shrieking at the sight of her face. As she let go of the mirror in surprise, Cait gasped and rescued it with a quick signed "boh-ee" spell. It arced upward just in time to keep from smashing on the wooden floor, and headed toward Cait. Before it was in Cait's hands, however, Claire grabbed one edge of it again, and a tug of war ensued, Cait's spell against Claire's grip. Within the glass, Jessica's confused face was now visible, craning her neck in an attempt to find out what on earth was going on.

Then the screen went blank.

"Must have broken," huffed Claire as she let go and the mirror smacked into Cait's chest with the full force of her spell.

Cait clasped her arms about it protectively as she asked Claire, "Why? I'm not going to remove that hex until you tell me why. You're rich. You can probably bribe yourself a set of good grades. Stealing this mirror so I can't study would be really stupid."

Claire stomped to her door and closed it, facing Meg, Cait, and Penny defiantly.

"That's not why. That's not even close. And if you breathe a word of the truth to anybody, you're dead." Claire glared at them from the doorway and squared her shoulders. "And I'd rather not pretend that this is chickenpox." A loud snort erupted from Penny, which Cait ignored.

"The truth," answered Cait. "Hex to be removed _after_ I hear it." Claire continued to glare, and then nodded slightly.

Meg did a Mindcast in Claire's direction and nodded. "Go."

"I don't have the money to bribe anybody for anything," said Claire in a low voice.

"Excuuuse me?" giggled Penny. "with clothes like _that_?" She pointed at Claire's spotless winter-white cashmere and silk robes.

Claire's chin rose proudly as she silently strode to her wardrobe and flung the door open. "My own sewing, all of it." The cabinet glowed with all sorts of sumptuous fabrics in brilliant colors, cut and pieced into a stunning variety of robes for school, and tops for Plain-Sight wear with jeans. "It's fashion-fabric remnants. And lots of reading of the fashion magazines people leave behind in Mom's shop. And knowing how to sew since I was six. It's a lot more fun to make your own things and pretend they're designer than it is to be stuck sewing them for somebody else. And robes are way easier to make than dresses. And when I'm done with school, I'm never going to be stuck with some old seamstress job, magical or not. And you're _not_ going to mess with that." Again the glare. "People think I bought all these" -- she tossed a head-nod at her wardrobe – "in fancy places like New York and Paris. So I let 'em. And people who wear clothes like this" – she flapped her voluminous sleeves in emphasis – "also know how to use things like that." Claire pointed at the Farsight mirror which Cait still clutched to her chest.

"So pretend that you have one, it broke, and come ask me in person, instead of just taking mine," retorted Cait. "_Ask_ me, for once. And don't ever touch my stuff without asking, or I'll make that hex on your face permanent. This is the sign for 'spots' and I'm not afraid to use it." The bluff worked; Claire flinched. Cait didn't actually know what would happen if she did the spell in ASL, but couldn't help thinking of Amanda and the "hate you" sign. She continued, "And tell Amanda to not do any more Daydark stunts or any other kind of cheating during our races."

"Agree," replied Claire. "Promise." Her voice was flat, but steady.

There was a shimmering downward sweep of Cait's wand, and the spots faded from Claire's face. Cait, Meg, and Penny all turned to leave. As Penny reached for the doorknob, Claire's plaintive voice sounded from behind them; Cait turned and raised an eyebrow. Claire repeated her question, "Can't I borrow it sometime? Just to practice?

Cait paused. "Maybe. _If_ you behave. Remember – spots!" Forming the sign in ASL, she swept out of the room with her friends.


	8. Chapter 7 part 2 of 3

Hello Fanfiction readers: ‎

Hello Fanfiction readers:

Happy Halloween/Samhain/All Saints'!

Here we are at the next-to-last segment of Cait's story. One more part to go! Be warned -- it's a long section, and probably ought to have been broken down into smaller subchapters. But I hadn't the patience. Happy reading!

AB

Chapter 7, Part 2 – DC

As Cait strode back to her room with the Farsight mirror hugged to her chest, Meg and Penny continued to snort and giggle.

"Chickenpox! Yeah, right. Bratty baby bro with paintbrush, more like," Penny said as they entered the room. Before Cait could put it down, the mirror began to vibrate, and a glow went up around it.

The glow caught Penny's attention. "Somebody wants to talk to you!" she said as she straddled her desk chair, arms leaning on the chair back. She kept her gaze fixed on Cait's desk as Cait propped the mirror up once more in its original spot. While Meg sat down at the foot of Cait's bed, Nini flicked her tail in annoyance and relocated herself to the pillow.

Silvery white swirls filled the mirror's surface, and the outline of Jessica's questioning face gradually took form. She was making only one sign, eyebrows drawn together, index fingers pointing at the trio, palms up, and then turning her hands over in unison. "What happened?"

Cait's retelling of the mirror theft and the spot hex set Meg and Penny off into a fresh round of hysterical giggles. Once Jessica vanished to go inform the Belfry Bats of this incident, Meg burst out in a torrent of chatter. "I can't wait to see other people's faces when they hear about this. She was going to pretend _those_ spots were chicken pox? Ha! No way! I bet's she's never seen anybody have chicken pox in real life. But that stuff in her closet's wicked great; I can't believe she really made all that! She'd probably invent something to put over her face to hide the spots, or a hat or something and then pretend she's discovered a new fashion and then everyone in school will copy it and wish they knew where she got all her clothes. Hoo boy, but we'll make sure everybody knows it's really 'cuz she got hexed!" Meg paused for breath.

"We can't tell anyone!" fired back Cait. "We have a secret over her head, remember? A _big_ secret." Cait smiled. "Us three will just happen to have a tiny little joke about chicken pox. You know, this is the first time I've _ever_ been in on a private joke!" And Cait's smile grew broader.

While they ate supper that evening, a crow flew into Great Hall with a note from the Belfry Bats, requesting that Cait bring the Farsight mirror to the library, where it would now be housed, and that their Sunday-afternoon lessons would resume there. The note stated further that as a goodwill gesture, the Bats had decided to invite other members of the SWI community to make use of the mirror whenever Cait didn't need to use it herself.

Sure enough, there was an extra announcement on everyone's schedules the next morning: "A Farsight mirror has been installed in the circulation area of the library for use of the SWI community. Please be aware that it is set up to convey visuals only, but not sound. Remember to check its schedule when reserving time at this mirror."

It was now late March, and warmer weather had momentarily set in. Snowmelt and mushy mud lay in all the places the firstyears were instructed to watch for garter snakes emerging from hibernation. If they were lucky there was even a chance of sighting a cartwheeling Ourobouros or two.

"Zoomorphia, my eye," grumbled Penny as she got up to head to Great Hall for lunch. "All we've done this year is look at animals. When are they ever gonna let us start transforming? Wish I had a drying spell for these soggy shoes." She scuffed at the gravel underfoot, earning a nip from a hungry snake who mistook the movement for prey.

A motion in the sky caught Cait's attention; a gray dove whirred and fluttered towards her, carrying a letter from Gallaudet with her mom's scrawl across the envelope: "Hope it's good news! Love, Mom."

Inside it was a "certificate of congratulations" upon the entry of Cait's artwork into the Essay, Art, and ASL contest.

"But I want to know if I _won_ or not," grumped Cait.

"Hey, at least we know it _got_ there alright!" defended Meg.

"They're blind if they don't give you some kind of prize," added Penny. "All those doodles up and down your class notes look pretty darn good to me."

"How come you were looking at my notes?"

Penny shrugged. "Looked like you were doing something different, that's all."

"Doodling's just a way to keep me from being nervous about that spellwork contest Corwin just announced yesterday. How come they only gave us two weeks to get ready? Okay, closer to three weeks, but it's still not enough. I don't even know whether I'm supposed to do the spells VK-style or spoken or Belfry-Bat style or what."

Beside them, Meg scowled. "Never mind those old contests – they're just a ploy to get us to study. Let's run! I'm starved!"

"You'd win a Mindcasting contest easy!" protested Cait. "You're the best Mindcaster in class."

Meg flapped her hand dismissively and crouched, ready to sprint. "Race you to Great Hall!"

Fortunately, Cait didn't have long to worry about which spellworking method to use in a logocentric competition. As she sat down to her next lesson with Jessica, not one, but two faces beamed back at her. "Lesson – aside for the moment –" signed Jessica, as she turned slightly towards the white-haired and rather rotund women on her right. "Announcement special – for you!"

Then the white-haired women began signing, words appearing on the nearby whiteboard. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Myrna Felder, head of the Belfry Bats, and I am pleased to invite you to the annual Signed Spellwork competition at Ole Jim on April 5th. You will be one of four firstyear competitors."

Cait felt giddy with excitement as Myrna continued with contest and travel details. Was she really that good at signed spellwork already? Then it sunk in with full force – she was really going to Ole Jim and Gallaudet University. She didn't need that art contest to get there!

Cait grinned and signed, "Ready, ready. I accept!"

Felder smiled and signed, "April 4th —see you!" Then she swept an L-hand in Jessica's direction, "over to you," waved at Cait, and was gone, as Jessica and Cait delved into the lesson with extra energy.

As the lesson finished up, Cait realized with alarm that she had no idea how she was supposed to travel to Ole Jim. "Felder – told me – arrive how? When? What-to-do? If I don't understand people? All sign – fluent, fluent?"

Jessica answered, "Calm down – OK – that whole list of things – we think you'll remember? No! You'll get a note – all written down. Understand signing – don't worry. It'll be fine!"

Sure enough, as Cait finished her supper, a small, dark shape fluttered in the fringe of her vision, and a bat carrying a golden scroll now perched on the edge of her cup of hot cider.

"Woo, congratulations, you wicked smart spellcaster!" exclaimed Meg, leaning over Cait's shoulder as she read the note.

"This bat's almost as cute as Nicky," admired Penny as she fed it a piece of her gingerbread.

Cait nodded agreement. "Well, mice are cute, and bats are sort of mice with wings, aren't they? What's this portal permission they're talking about here?" Penny leaned in to read the scroll as well; she and Meg exchanged a look and shrugged – no idea. Time to ask a teacher. Cait put the scroll in her sleeve pocket and watched the bat, now stuffed with gingerbread, flutter its way haphazardly towards the nearest window, only to settle on the ledge and fall asleep.

"Penny, what if you fed him too much? The Belfry Bats will think I stole their messenger!"

"Nah, he'll be fine in ten minutes and ready to head back to DC. One of my mom's customers likes sending her orders by bat, and it pigs out so crazy when there's cookies in the shop. C'mon, we both gotta get studying – we got some contests to win!"

Spellwork class had become chaotic since Corwin announced the upcoming contest. Everyone wanted to compete, but there were places for only eight contestants per class. Pairs of students practiced sending spells back and forth as Corwin wandered around the room offering memorization advice to one student, and reminding another that, "no, hexes are never allowed during _any_ competition." The classroom copy of _The Grand Encyclopedia of Firstyear Spellwork_ was in constant motion from desk to desk, sometimes caught in tug-of-wars similar to that which Cait's Farsight mirror had recently undergone. A burst of paper in the center of the room startled everyone out of their spellwork – one student had the bright idea of attempting a Replicating spell on the book. Sheets of paper fluttered around the room, each of them a perfect copy of the title page of the Encyclopedia.

"There you have it, class," announced Corwin with twinkling eyes. "That's what you get when you try to Replicate books under copyright – your own title-page copy to take to the Margin Alley bookstore. Or to the library."

Cait sat with her Belfry book before her, cross-checking it against her classroom notes. She was excited, but also nervous enough to nearly back out of the Ole Jim competition – she hadn't even been using Belfry spells for two months yet! How was she going to know them well enough to actually compete against the other signing students? For all she knew, the other students might have been using Belfry spells all along! And she was so new to signing -- how _was_ she going to understand everyone?

Amanda snickered as she peered at Cait's Belfry spellbook. "That one has her own _special_ competion," she proclaimed to Claire while rolling her eyes at Cait.

Claire narrowed her eyes as if she were going to mouth off, but then changed her mind as Cait stared back and began to form the "spots" handshape. "Yeah, they probably had to send her off to another competition 'cuz everyone knows she'd win this one. I gotta practice. Let's do the Transformation spell again – rocks into glass on the count of three."

Cait allowed herself a smug smile and returned to the Belfry spellbook. As she read, it dawned on her that not all of the squiggles illustrated spells – some of the squiggles showed plain ASL. She turned to the front of the book – that was the sign for "Introduction". And under it – that whole page was all ASL; people could write books in ASL! She still didn't recognize all the signs that were written there, but look – there were the letters VK near the sign for "hearing" and "invent." And there was the sign for Gallaudet, and near it, "Sign" and "spell" together. Closing the book, she looked at the cover again: "Signed-spellwork – Rock-solid-true. Level One." She felt all happy and light inside. All in Sign – everything in Sign! No jumping back and forth between English and Hebraic-Aramaic and ASL and Signspell. No spoken language here at all! She still sat there marveling as the bell rang at the end of class, and a hand swiped the cap off her head.

"Aren't you going to come to lunch? I'm starving! You're clearly possessed by your own spellbook," proclaimed Meg.

All too soon, it was the afternoon of April 4, and Cait felt like her brain would burst if she sat and studied any more. She wasn't supposed to go to the SWI portal until sundown, but decided to go find it so that she knew where to go to when it _was_ time to be there. Of course her parents had granted off-campus permission as soon as they learned of the competition, and Greatwood actually smiled as Cait presented the signed permission slip to her the day after announcement of the Ole Jim competition. "Most meritorious of you to be properly observing school rules and regulations this semester," she proclaimed. "You are setting a much better precedent than you did last semester. And you will, no doubt, convey the best of SWI scholarship as you represent this school in the competiton at Gallaudet University. I do not doubt that you will be an outstanding representative of this school after all."

To all this, Cait could only say, "Thank you. I hope so!" _Greatwood talks like she's eaten and digested the whole SWI handbook. Does she ever talk like a regular person? _

A light breeze now tugged at her robe as she left Partridge Hall and headed for Great Hall. Pulling the portal directions out of her sleeve pocket, Cait read, "The portal is located in the pool room under Great Hall, Southern Alcove." Finding the usual pool-room door unlocked, she went through it and descended the stairs. As she neared the foot of the staircase, she heard a splash – Andrea, maybe? Then there was the muddied murmur of two voices in conversation. And neither of them were Andrea's. The tone was playful, bantering – and the voices were of grownups, not kids. And then they were giggling. Grownups? Were they teachers? With a shock, Cait realized that of course, grownups dated and flirted and had crushes – but here? Around the students?

Now she was curious. Who were these two? _Mind your own beeswax, girl_, her conscience prodded. But Cait's curiosity was too strong.

Standing behind the nearest stalagmite, Cait sent out a tentative mindcast – her ears told her true for once, there really were two people here. Peering carefully around the stone column, she could see a flash of bright hair. Brunner! And who was the other person? Cait watched some more. There was a rhythmic motion nearby – Brunner ran a comb through her hair as she talked with that other person. The rise and fall of her hand – up and down – a soothing motion, a homelike motion, the motion of calmness, it felt like being at home, that rise and fall, stroke after stroke. Bits of light reflected from water to ceiling and sometimes off that hair. Rise and fall, feels like home … Cait could have happily watched Brunner comb her hair all day. The rhythm of waves, that was it, waves and beach, in and out, up and down.

The Portal no longer in her thoughts, Cait now wanted a better view of Lori Brunner. She took a step closer to the pool, and then another – and tripped over a budding stalagmite.

The voices stopped.

So did the comb.

Cait felt a push of air which felt like the "boom" of very large fireworks; it came from the direction of the pool. She then sent out another Mindcast – Brunner was the only person there besides Cait.

The teacher now got up and walked briskly towards Cait. Her face glowed red, and she fumbled as she tried to stuff her comb into a pocket that was still buttoned. "So, Cait, you're early! Ohn' Fleiss, kein Preis. Na, gut. Good thing the Portal is ready in advance, good thing. Nothing wrong with promptness, nothing at all." Cait had never heard Brunner talk so breathlessly before, nor look so flustered. And she had certainly never mixed up German and English in class! "Why not get there early, nothing wrong with that at all! Unlike travelling by broom, you don't need the darkness, and if you've never been to a place before, so much better to figure it out in the daylight. Oh yes. I hear that this is your first time going to Gallaudet."

Brunner now waved at Cait to follow her over to the canopied object she'd noticed during the first swimming class, the one that looked like a stone wishing well. As they walked around behind the "well," Cait could see a break in the wall just large enough so that one could walk through and stand under the stone canopy.

Brunner continued to speak, her voice now sounding more like her usual self. "Now, you stand on that stone in the center, and when I start the spell, you'll be on your way. This is also where you'll arrive when you return to SWI. I guarantee it'll be much more comfortable than your book-led trip west."

_Damn. Does everyone in this whole school know all about my trip to Snohomish?_ Cait shook off the annoyance and concentrated on going to Gallaudet.

"Are you ready? Have everything?"

Cait pulled her hat securely on her head, checked for her wand and spellbook, safe in their respective pockets, checked for her billfold, very glad to have saved up her allowance, and remembered with relief that she had already made sure that Penny would cat-sit Nini for her.

Cait nodded.

"Good. Do us proud in the competition. Bon voyage!"

With a sweep of Brunner's wand, and a word Cait didn't catch, she was off, hurtling through the same breathless darkness as before, but now it was more like a pleasant underwater glide than the nervewracking trip of last November.

Just as the breathlessness became unbearable, Cait realized that she was in regular, three-dimensional space again. Reaching out, she felt cool cement walls on either side. A staircase was visible, rising up before her. Sunlight streamed in from the top of the stairs.

Now what was it that Jessica had told her to do? She had told Cait to first go up the stairs – but before doing that, to make sure that she would be Hidden in Plain Sight. This was, after all, a Muggle campus. There would then be a path, a bench, and a person there to guide her. Cait rubbed the hem of her robe between her fingers as she thought. What sort of a glamour could she pull off – and maintain – while roaming around a campus she'd never seen before? Let's see; a blue-jean dress could sort of look like robes, that would be a relatively easy illusion to keep up. Casting the charm, Cait double-checked the effect, and then ran up the stairs.

Boring – she was in a parking lot. That can't be right! To her right, a path sloped up a small hill, leading to a group of low brick buildings with black-mesh-enclosed walkways surrounding them, and a foundation of fieldstones underneath them all. She ran up the path, only to stand still before the cluster of buildings – the path split off to the right and left. Which way should she go? Cait stood at the junction and looked both around. To the right, was only more of that low brick complex. On her left, the hill sloped downward, and there were many more buildings off that way – that must be the rest of campus. And just up ahead there, was that a bench?

As Cait walked down the path, she admired the view, framed by the pines which grew on this slope. Off in the far distance was a familiar round white shape – the US Capitol! Well, she was in DC, duh! But nobody told her that Gallaudet had a view of the Capitol. A playing field stretched out at the foot of the hill, and Cait wished she were in the air, flying down to it. She had a better view of the other buildings now, but they all looked too new. Where were the old buildings? Nearing the bench, her stomach dropped; there was no evidence of anybody nearby. Not even a nearby squirrel or cat or crow which might be a transformed person. She must have arrived too early for her guide to be here yet. Now what was she going to do? How was she going to find Ole Jim?

Think.

Maybe if all the new buildings were here, there must be another part of campus where all the old buildings were. Time to start walking.

She followed the paved path with its buckled-up pieces of old, uneven, yellowed pavement as it sloped its way down the hill. A cement plaza now opened up below her. A shallow, stone-filled depression in the middle of it looked like it might be a pool or a fountain, had there been any water in it. Plain brick towers reached up on the left side of the plaza, one red, and the other one yellow. A two-story building stood on the right; its huge picture windows showed people sitting around round tables, signing away over plates of food – the cafeteria, apparently. A bright blue light in the middle of the ceiling began to flash, and the diners began to finish their conversations and pick up their trays and book bags. That's right! Of course they wouldn't use bells and buzzers when it was time for class and stuff. Cait grinned. _Won't have to "listen up" here, that's for sure!_

Cait tore her eyes from the dining room and continued walking. A flutter of motion in the distance caught her eye – a flag waved from a tower in the distance. It did not look at all like the modern buildings around her – was that one of the old buildings?

As Cait eagerly crossed the plaza, she had to fight to contain the excitement bubbling inside her. There were other students crossing the plaza in pairs and groups – and they were _all_ signing! Older than she was, yes, some quite a bit older – they must be the college students. She wanted to jump and squeal – all this conversation all around her, all so easy to grasp, they all made it look so easy, so effortless! Unfortunately, whenever she tried to catch a glimpse of this comment or that conversation, she still couldn't catch much meaning – too fast, too fluent. But still – she _was_ going to sign like that! She was!

But first, she had a building to find. The plaza ended at a spiral path that brought her to ground level and deposited her right at the foot of a very large, very red building which was still very much under construction; a road ran to the right and left before her. On the other side of the road, the path continued between this new half-built building and a large square brick building next to it, but a fence and sign sternly prohibited entry.

Now how was she going to get to the rest of campus?

Looking to the right, there was a dark overpass, and what looked like parking garage. Creepy.

To the left, newly-green playing fields beckoned, the same ones she had been admiring from the top of the hill; the road continued between these fields and the huge new building. Turning her back to the parking garage, Cait followed the road. If only she had a broom and could simply fly over the campus and find Ole Jim from the air! Plodding along in Plain Sight was no fun at all. Building after building stretched to the right.

Whenever it looked like there was a new building, Cait's heart would leap in hope that there would be a break between them. She wanted to get back to the direction of that tower she'd seen, but couldn't – all of these buildings were connected to each other, with no breaks or archways or underpasses. Occasional students strode by, but Cait didn't want to interrupt them with their fluent signing to ask in her clumsy sign where Ole Jim was. And she didn't see anybody else her age on campus; would those grownup students just shoo her away?

When she thought the procession of buildings would never end, there was at last a break between them – and these buildings _did_ look old! They had the up-and-down shape of the houses from her hometown, not at all like the plain and spread-out buildings she'd just passed, and there was fancy brickwork around the windows and doors. Cait ran down the path between them; brick here, fancier brick there, stone back there with pointy windows – that one looked like a church! But _where_ was half-timbered Ole Jim?

The path opened onto a grassy lawn. Across the way, a very old-fashioned house peeked through between two newer buildings – but there was still no glimpse of Ole Jim.

Ready to cry with frustration, Cait stomped her way over to a statue of a man who looked potbellied in his voluminous academic robes, and flumped down on the grass.

Nearby, a cluster of hackysack players bounced a ball around while a white-haired woman watched from a small bench.

What now?

There was the brush of someone's consciousness over the edge of her mind – Cait jumped up as if stung. She was being Mindcasted! Looking around the green, the cluster of hackysack players now stood still, a curly-haired fellow holding the ball as they exchanged glances with the white-haired woman, who now nodded, rose, and began to approach Cait.

But the hackysack players got to her first – Cait now recognized the coach of the Eagles; that girl who had finished all seven years of school; the curly-haired guy who gave her his cap – she was now surrounded in hugs and friendly thumps on the back. They were all now welcoming her, cheering her, and thanking her. Thanking her?

Coach clarified, signing slowly and making sure Cait could follow him. "You told the Bats about us – we all got in touch." Here, he pointed at two team members who grinned more widely than the others. "Two-of-them -- what are they doing? Go to school again – four more years – become full witches, wizards! How come? You!"

Cait couldn't imagine feeling any happier than she was in that moment. Even so, once the greetings slowed down, the white-haired woman was now introducing herself –Myrna Felder – oh, right, the one who'd announced the contest to Cait. Felder was now, however, giving her a lecture for showing up so early that there was no one ready to make sure she got from the portal to Ole Jim without breaking Plain Sight. Many of the signs flew over Cait's head, but her pulled-up stance, firm gaze, and emphatic signing left no doubt. Lecture done, she eyed Cait's "denim dress", which was getting blurry around the edges, and renewed the illusion for her.

Now a wave of her arm to the whole group – follow! They all walked between the buildings with the old-fashioned house between – there it was, just to the right – Ole Jim! Cait had been so very close, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was just as beautiful and grand as it had been in the picture, only now she could see that it was painted a beautiful, deep red, with two stories of multi-paned windows. Inside the door, a wooden staircase swept up to the second floor – but Felder led them right past it. Making sure that Muggle attention was elsewhere, she made a smart wandtap on the paneling under the staircase. A door opened, and another staircase opened up beyond it.

"Up, up" she waved them all on, reminding Cait of Corwin at Margin Alley on that first day at SWI. This staircase was a long one – Cait was sure that she had walked more than one story by the time the stairs finally bent to the left, and a lofty, light-filled room with thin metal rafters high in the eaves opened before them. Tall windows let in the coppery glow of pre-sunset light, which bounced off the newly-varnished wooden floor, while a light of a different sort drew her eye to the right. There, a brick chimney traveled up to the roof, covered in the flickering, flashing signatures and class years of countless Belfry-Bat alums.

"Stories – how many?" she signed to Felder.

"Illusion!" was the answer. A Thoughtwrite board was soon nearby, spelling out Felder's explanation that yes, Ole Jim was really a three-story building. But when it was being constructed a century ago, a master spellcaster had put a permanent charm on the third story so that it would be only accessible to wizards and invisible to everyone else. After all, finding future deaf magic-workers was important work, and the Belfry Bats needed a permanent home base to work from. But with so many deaf students now scattered among the mainstream schools, it was getting harder and harder to locate Deaf magical kids, and they were still figuring out how best to do outreach. Many Belfry alums wished to be back in the days when they could simply visit local Deaf schools and look for magic.

Enough history! Felder looked around. "Who's hungry?" she signed.

Hands went up all around the room. Cait now realized that there were many more people here than just herself and the Eagles. Snacks were summoned up, restrooms pointed out, and people's bookbags and cloaks stowed. The room filled with the festive hubbub of flying hands as people recognized each other and began conversations. Everyone seemed to know each other here!

For one brief moment, it felt like being back at public school where she was always the odd one out, with no friends.

Then Cait noticed with relief that some of the Eagles still chatted nearby, keeping Cait within their line of vision. As she caught their eye and picked up her hands, their conversation paused. "Everyone here – know each other? How?"

"Deaf world – small, very small!" shrugged one girl, as she began pointing out the people she knew from broomball games and her own Hedge-level years. Then she was asking if Cait knew the names of all the Eagles? No? Well, that's our seven-year graduate over there, Lillian…

Older people were now filtering in as well, some carrying boxes, others summoning up tables and decorations. Across the room, a familiar face hurried towards Cait, hands flying, "Sorry – arrive so late! No – early you! You – plans messed up – I waited, waited, waited at the portal for you. Shame! -- Whatever – whatever – great to see you!" and Jessica was now standing before Cait, hands on hips, with a mock-stern face which soon dissolved into a bear hug.

As at SWI, there was now a proper banquet with lots of food, some of which Cait had never seen before. The sweet-potato pie was her favorite. Least favorite were the greens – she could not bring herself to eat a second forkful of them. At first, she wondered if somebody might be in trouble down in the kitchen for overcooking them. Looking around, some of the students were slinging down those greens as if they were absolutely wonderful. The curly-haired Eagle saw her line of sight, grinned, poked at his own greens, and pulled a face. Pretty soon, it was quite clear that most of the Eagles had the same opinion as Cait; it was a real struggle to not burst out laughing because then they'd have to explain why, and what if they offended a local?

A blonde girl opposite Cait caught her eye, then asked her name in signs that hesitated and stumbled. Why, she was no more fluent than Cait herself had been half a year ago! "My name – C-A-I-T-L-I-N" she spelled back, being sure to keep her tempo slow. Then she asked, "Mainstream – you?" The blonde looked confused as her hands merged in the unfamiliar sign, imitating the sign Cait had used. One of the Thoughtwrite boards zoomed over to them and displayed the words, "Were you mainstreamed?" Soon, their conversation was off and running as enthusiastically as everyone else's in the room.

All too soon, a flurry of motion erupted around her, and all the Thoughtwriters hovering about the tables zoomed towards the front of the room. There, they combined to form a large screen, as waving hands throughout the room directed people's attention to Myrna Felder, who now stood waiting for stubborn conversations to finish and all eyes to be directed forward. A cluster of signers persisted in their chatter; the room went dark as all the glow-globes hovering in the rafters doused themselves in unison and re-lit themselves after a couple of seconds. Now nobody was chatting.

Speech time.

Cait was quickly lost among Felder's fluid signing, but it didn't matter; the words of formal welcome showed up plainly on the giant Thoughtwriter behind her. As Felder launched into a history of Belfry-Bat outreach, Cait's thoughts began to drift. _This is so boring, why do I have to sit through all this academic yak yak yak? _She leaned her chin on one hand and began to push pie-crust crumbs into decorative shapes on her plate. Then she put down the fork and grinned – hey, this was the first time she'd zoned out because the speech itself was boring – not because it was too much work to decipher!

Now the next day's schedule was being announced; the firstyears were the first to compete. Nervousness gripped Cait, then alarm, as she remembered the SWI term-begin banquet last September and the school bell which was so easy for her to sleep through. What if she overslept? How were they going to make sure everyone got up on time?

Speeches now done, the banquet tables morphed into study carrels, couches, and coffeetables. The giant Thoughtwriter broke apart and the small Thoughtwrite boards scattered throughout the room as conversations resumed.

Once people began yawning and ending their conversations, the hovering glow-globes dimmed to amber and Belfry Bats began shooing visitors towards the door.

Now there was something else going on. Myrna Felder stood in the center of the room watching Jessica, who was holding a wand and gazing down the center of the room, lips clenched in concentration. She nodded, then Felder signed, "Girls here – right; boys there – left!" and then nodded to Jessica, whose wand danced a series of arcs. Suddenly, a couple dozen hammocks hung at various heights throughout the room, all suspended from the rafters. With another sweep of the wand, a shimmering silver partition divided the room.

Felder waved for everyone's attention, then swept her hand towards the floor, "Brooms there – for everyone – choose a hammock. Sleep well! Good night!" and both she and Jessica vanished. Some students flew up immediately to the rafters to look more closely at the hammocks and settle in. As the rest queued up for the two small restrooms, Cait thanked the stars that she'd gone before there was a line.

Picking up a nearby broom, Cait looked about for a hammock that wasn't too far off the ground. _And I was worried about waking up on time! What if I fall out of this thing? How am I going to sleep up there? _A tap on her shoulder – Cait turned to see an older student, a girl with straight raven-black hair. "Not to worry – can't fall out – safety spell!" And she waved Cait upward. Legs shaking, Cait flew up to the nearest hammock. A small glow-globe hovered over it and a miniature hammock just the right size for books, hat and the small broom she rode. Cautiously rolling from broom to hammock, Cait felt embraced – that was the only word for the feeling of well-being that enveloped her as the hammock rocked gently beneath her. Even the flapping butterflies in her stomach were now calm, and she fell asleep dreaming of lots of new friends and lots of conversation where nobody missed out or got confused or couldn't keep up.

A cool breeze tapped her cheek, and a burst of light surrounded her. Cait opened her eyes to see the room full of sunlight – but not quite, this light was flashing and twinkling. Looking about, mirrors surrounded the room, flashing morning sunlight at her and the other hammocks which swayed in the cool breeze. _But the windows are closed! Duh – it's a spell. A Deaf wake-up spell!_ Cait's stomach growled. Grabbing her things and pulling her cap on her head, Cait rode the broom back to the Belfry floor, where tables were set for breakfast and the partition no longer divided the room.

As soon as the last hammock was vacated, the breeze stopped, the mirrors faded into nothingness, and once Jessica's wand danced a reverse set of arcs, the room looked as it did before. But chatter was not flying around the room as it did before; everybody was nervously searching spellbooks, perusing notes, and practicing Belfry-style spells. All the same, a thrill filled Cait as she and the blonde from last night swapped glances and mimed nail-biting at the same time – so easy to understand each other here! This place really _was_ designed for her, for all of them!

Two black-robed Belfry Bats now strode along the sides of the room. Stadium seating arose from the floor as the breakfast tables vanished and dishes were whisked away – to where? Other Bats were wanding banners into place, setting green plants here and there, sending glittering streamers to snake their way through the rafters in elaborate patterns.

People in fancy robes were now filing into the room and taking seats: stately alums, boisterous fellow students, beaming parents. The Eagles burst into the hall in a cluster, all heading for Cait, thumping her on the back and sticking a grandiose plume in her cap before taking their seats.

The raven-haired girl poked Cait and pointed to the far end of the room – time for competitors to take their places. Felder stood at a podium directly opposite the staircase where spectators still filtered in. Behind her were eleven seats; over them floated numbers which looked as if they were made out of blown glass in all colors of the spectrum. Cait was pointed towards the "'14" on the far left, which glowed in a fiery shade of red-orange.

Taking her seat, she smiled at a pale-faced boy already under the "'14", who looked even more scared than Cait felt. _Don't get scared_, she told herself. _I can't get scared or I'll really lose it_. Looking at the spectators instead, the festive flutter of all the conversing hands filled her with an effervescent happiness. This place was meant for her. How could she be scared here? A Mindcast tap at her mind – Lillian smiled at her, and then the whole Eagles team gave her thumbs up. Pride filled Cait as she grinned and waved at the team. With a pang, she wished Meg and Penny were there in the stands with them.

But now the blur that filled the stands was calming down as conversations ceased and all eyes turned to the staircase – a group of six colorfully-robed and tall-hatted witches and wizards stood there. In unison, this group filed into the room and took their seats at a table which stood before the left-hand bank of spectator seats. The judges!

Butterflies were flapping around again in Cait's stomach in full force. Felder stepped forward now – time for another speech, which was reflected in four large Thoughtwriters. One hovered above each bank of spectator seats, one above the competitors, and the last one hovered over the staircase, where the competitors could read it. After what seemed like an age, Felder put down her hands, then stepped back and swept a gesture at the row of competitor seats – time to begin the competition.

"Class of 2014!" she signed, and waved for the firstyears to stand. Cait could see that there were four of them. Too nervous to decipher Felder's signing, she read the Thoughtwriter instead. "Let's find out which of you is to go first. Each of you think of a number between 10 and 50, and when I do this" – Cait's eyes flicked back to Felder in time to see her arm make a grand sweep downward – "project it out for everyone to see, about this size." Felder checked to see that the competitors' eyes were on her and had finished reading the Thoughtwriter before her hands described a square of about eight inches. "Use whatever color you like best. They don't have to equal the ones overhead, don't worry. Ready?" Felder's gaze swept over them, eyebrows high in inquiry. They all nodded, shifted, and tried to settle their nerves.

Felder's arm arose – get ready!

Cait chose her number, visualized her favorite shade of green – that vibrant neon shade of brand-new leaves, right after budding – held the image of her number firmly in her mind, extended her wand at the ready, and fixed her eyes on Felder.

The arm dropped.

Four numbers flashed before judges and spectators. Cait was very pleased that her chartreuse "36" held steady. The pumpkin-orange "42" from the boy next to her wavered at the edges, and the purple "28" from the girl on her other side kept trying to fade to lavender. A yellow "14" at the far end of the group held steady. _Wow, even that wobbly "42" is better than what the other folks in Corwin's class can do!_ marveled Cait. _Maybe image-casting is easier for deaf people, the way speech is easier when you have all your hearing_.

"Numbers 14 and 28, you are Team One; numbers 36 and 42, Team Two," announced Felder.

A cauldron now hovered before the Team One firstyears.

"The two of you will jointly pull out one slip from the cauldron," explained Felder. "Your task is to do what it says, using your spellwork skills and the objects which are in plain view in this room. Do not transport objects into the room from elsewhere; do not use items belonging to spectators. These rules apply to everyone in today's competition. Break them, and you will be immediately disqualified from competing. Are you ready? Now choose – but eyes closed!" The two students closed their eyes, reached into the cauldron, and pulled out a slip which Felder allowed them to read. Then she took the slip and signed to the rest of the room what it said.

The Thoughtwrite boards displayed the words: "Oops, two tables are left over from breakfast. Please relocate them to the back of the hall!" And sure enough, a white-draped table now stood before each of the two students, laden with china, silverware, food, and one vase of flowers apiece.

Lavender Girl's table successfully traveled the length of the room with only one dropped spoon and a shake of the flower vase. Wavery-Pumpkin's table traveled in stages – first the dishes flew to the floor, then the table zoomed to the other end of the room, tablecloth still fluttering as it landed, and the dishes flocked after it.

The judges now sat in a football-style huddle so that nobody could see what they were signing. After several long moments, they took their places at the table, and directed their gaze at Cait and Steady Yellow. The tables had now vanished from where they had stood near the staircase.

Time for Team Two.

Cait thanked the stars for the ClingSpell on her wand as her hands popped out in sweat. The cauldron was now hovering before them, and they reached into it in unison. As their fingers bumped among the slips of paper, an instantaneous tactile conversation emerged – "Nah, not that one, how about over here?" "Or maybe this one over here?"

Then their fingers landed on the same slip at the same time, and they drew it out in perfect unison: "Water the plants on the rafters," was all it said.

_Plants? On the rafters?_ Cait looked up. Sure enough, among the glittering streamers and twining vines were two large terracotta pots containing palm trees, balanced where the rafters intersected above each bank of spectator seats. Near the stairs, where the breakfast tables had last been, were now two large copper watering cans.

All the eyes in the room were now on Cait and her team-mate.

Trying to ignore the judges' piercing scrutiny, Cait levitated her watering can slightly, gauging how much water was inside. She could tell that bringing the palm tree down from its perch would be awkward, what with the heavy terracotta pot and the ungainly foliage. Maneuvering the large watering can with its long nozzle would be equally tricky – it was not light, and holding a steady hover-spell while also keeping the nozzle where it needed to be would be difficult. Her Mayim spell would be easier than either of these options – but she had not used it for quite this much water before.

_Here goes_.

Visualizing the mass of water and the path it needed to travel, Cait gathered her intention and made the sign. The mass of water sparkled in the sunlight as it traveled upward on the path she'd visualized. Just as Cait allowed the water to cascade into the soil, there was a slight slip in her concentration – if only she could just let the water go! No, she could do it, just hang on a little bit longer and all the water will be there. She kept the remaining water in place by sheer willpower as it finished pouring into the soil, then dropped her wand arm with a sigh of relief, legs trembling beneath her. _Was that a flurry of conversation among the stands?_ Cait wondered, as the motion caught her eye. _Were people yakking like that with the first team?_ With surprise, she noticed that some hands were waving applause in the air. Yellow's empty watering can now floated down to the floor as he heaved a huge sigh; he looked tired, and Cait was glad to have chosen her own method for getting the water to the plant.

The judges were in a huddle again. Cait's nerves revved into gear – what if she was supposed to transport the water _and_ the watering can? Would they disqualify her for moving only the water?

The judges were now back in their places, and the Thoughtwrite boards read: "Team One, now you water the plants." _Whew, guess I'm still in!_ thought Cait with relief.

_And if they're doing our plants, I guess we get to move breakfast tables now_. Cait began to mentally rehearse how she'd move the loaded table with its fragile objects. Remembering Lavender Girl's wobbling vase, Cait tried to figure out why none of the things in Corwin's tea set ever wobbled. Of course! The Boh-Lekh-Na spell was addressed to _all_ of the objects on the tray – and Lavender Girl must have told only the table to move. The watering cans vanished – the other team had now finished, and the relieved competitors sat down as the judges deliberated.

New confidence filled Cait as the tables reappeared and the judges directed their attention to her and Yellow once more. She could do this! The table was larger than Corwin's tea tray, but not much. Standing before her table, she formed the intended path in her mind, being sure to include every object before her: the tall vase with its top-heavy flowers, the spoon balanced across the top of a small bowl of berries, the narrow coffeepot which probably didn't need much encouragement to topple over. With a quick prayer, Cait sent the energy out to the table and watched it travel smoothly to the other end of the hall. Wow, nothing tipped, nothing fell! Were they done? Cait fervently hoped the firstyear competition was done – she was wiped out.

Thankfully, the secondyears were now being called up. Cait plopped into her seat to watch the more advanced students. For a while, she tried to figure out how they were doing what they were doing, but as the spellwork became more complex, gave up and simply enjoyed watching them. Once the thirdyears had finished, it was lunchtime, and Cait was surrounded by hugging and cheering Eagles.

Then it was time for the Above-Hedge competition, which she and the other below-Hedgies got to watch from the lowest bank of stadium seats, opposite the judges. These tasks were even more stunning. Then she realized with a start that not all the competitors had wands. Where were their wands? Were they really doing all that spellwork without wands? Cait's mind reeled at what she was seeing. _Was she really going to be doing _that_ in five years? No wonder Meg's so afraid of above-Hedge work_. Cait watched a pair of wandless sixthyears create a pair of hanging gardens before their eyes, which grew from seedings to flowers to fruit. A tree laden with apples reminded her of the wand shop at Margin Alley. _Wait a minute. My chestnut wand is supposed to see me through all seven years of study. But all these Belfry-Bat above-Hedge people are learning to go wandless. But then, nobody even _does_ wandless magic at SWI! So what's Meg so afraid of?_

The last of the seniors were now sitting down. What now?

Names began to appear on the Thoughtwrite boards, and hands were waving all over the room. _Was that her name up there?_ Cait stared in disbelief as a judge motioned her up towards the judges' table where a set of crystal trophies sat.

"Firstyear First Place – Caitlin Leo," was indeed what it said. This was some wonderfully unbelievable dream, and she was going to wake up at SWI, saying some spell the wrong way as she fell off her broom. But no – the hands pushing her towards the table were all too real. Cait grinned as she shook the judges' hands and accepted her trophy. _That old Erin Buckforth can keep all those awards and honors _thought Cait, remembering public school._ And it doesn't even matter if Amanda wins all the races at BWI_. Cait had this, and she was keeping it.

Now a portly judge in a maroon hat was signing something to her – a Thoughtwrite board zoomed over to display, "Your innovation with the water was remarkable. We will be watching for you in future competitions. Congratulations!" _No pressure, heh_.

But she couldn't escape just yet – the judge laid a hand on her arm and pointed to a waiting photographer.

Finally, prizes were all awarded, pictures all taken, and people began drifting out of the hall. Not the Eagles, however – they had swiped a tablecloth, and now blanket-tossed Cait innumerable times up to the rafters to check on "her" plant, letting up only when the spectators and judges had all left.

As the lowered the blanket and let Cait step off, she could see people around her tapping shoulders and pointing to the front of the hall. Myrna Felder stood there, a row of brooms before her. She now announced, with sweeping signs, "Tour of campus before departure! Please choose a broom and be ready to follow me." Cait cast an anxious look at the windows; sunset colors streaked the sky. She'd be stuck trying to night-fly! Felder now motioned to her right. "Boats are reserved for those who cannot broomride after dark." Two trim little canoes awaited where a bank of stadium seats had just been. "We will be flying under the glamour of a flock of Canada geese. When I give the signal, follow!"

Felder now took her broom and flew up to a section of ceiling, which opened up skylight-style, as Cait took her seat in a canoe along with an elderly Belfry Bat and a thirdyear who walked with an unsteady gait; there were students filling the other canoe as well. Looking up, she could see a set of red and black streamers which flowed from the back of Felder's broom, making her easier to follow.

Now they were whisking through the roof and into the open air. Below the canoes and under each broom, Cait could see shadowy outlines of outstretched wings and long necks. A green lawn spread out below them as Felder waved them all into a hovering circle and began to point out buildings, their names hovering in the air, written in glowing light, which faded as soon as everyone had read them. "The Library. College Hall. Chapel Hall. Kendall School, the original one." Now they were on the move, up and over these old buildings, counting the eaves, admiring the fancy roof-tiles of Chapel Hall, and circling its famous Clock Tower. _They're gonna think we're the weirdest Canada geese they've ever seen_, Cait thought of the Muggles below.

Then they were leaving the old buildings behind and hovering again: "Elstad Auditorium. Field House. Student Union. Let's do a lap around the football field!" Then they were flying towards the hill Cait remembered and hovering once more. "Undergrad dorms. Dining hall. Hall Building. New building there – Jordan Academic Center." Why did Felder pull that face as she fingerspelled the name "Jordan"?

As they flew over that hill, Felder continued: "Model Secondary School for the Deaf – that's our middle and high school. Kendall Elementary School. Look over that way, behind you – US capitol!" The white dome was now glowing with light and much more impressive than it had been in the daylight. Cait turned away from the Capitol and suddenly recognized the walkway-surrounded building with the pines around it. That was where she'd walked out of the portal! She wondered what it would be like to go to school here, to be around deaf kids all the time, to never again have to "listen up" to anything. She'd miss Penny and Meg, though. And would they miss her, too? And would there be any teachers there as good as Corwin?

Now they were off again, cool night air brushing their faces and streaming their hair back as they flew over "Thornberry Building" which looked like a dropped ring, and "our hotel, Kellogg Conference Center," before following Felder's streamers back into the skylight-hatch of Ole Jim's roof.

Cait gathered her things reluctantly as Felder assigned departure portals and times to everyone. This time, Cait found herself following Jessica out to a building on the edge of campus which looked like a miniature brick house, complete with white-painted gingerbread trim.

"This place – I miss now!" she complained as Jessica held the door open for her. "Again put-up-with teachers - think I understand mumblemumblemumble?" Cait wrinkled her nose as her fingers fluttered in the sign for "incomprehensible speech."

Jessica shook her head. "No worry! You'll come b-a-c-k". She fingerspelled that last word for emphasis, then began listing things on her left hand. "Socials. Sports. Contests. Art, maybe!" Jessica grinned and waved Cait towards a flagstone in the center of the room.

"Ready?" Jessica signed a double "R" at Cait.

"No," Cait grumped with thumb and two fingers closing emphatically. Then she clutched her trophy tighter and thought of how much fun she'd have showing off to Meg, Penny, and Ms. Corwin. "OK – anyway -- I'll go!"

"See you, see you!" signed Jessica.

Then the breathlessness carried her back to Salem.


	9. Chapter 7 part 3 of 3

Chapter 7, part 3 – Nestlings and Term-end

As soon as she saw the glow of the pool room around her, Cait burst out of the portal, ran up the stairs to the courtyard and took the steps leading to Great Hall two at a time. As she entered Great Hall, the room full of diners looked strangely subdued – faces strangely static, no hands flying in chatter. Almost as odd was the wave of vocal babble which struck her ears.

Cait looked around the room for her friends; Meg caught her eye and nudged Penny. Holding the trophy aloft, Cait grinned broadly as she skipped to their table. As she went, the hubbub of voices calmed as people turned to see what was going on.

Cait handed the trophy to Penny. "Firstyear division, first prize!" she signed, then spoke. They all admired how it reflected the lights of Great Hall, and the tiny holograph of Cait that stood within its center.

There was now an imperious wave from the faculty table; Lumen wanted to see the trophy, and it was soon traveling the length of the table as Cait explained Belfry-Bat outreach and this national Deaf-wizarding school-age competition. Corwin's eyes shone as she told everyone how good a Spellwork student Cait was from the very first class, while Cait shifted her weight from foot to foot, wishing she could sit down and be out of the spotlight already. A hefty stack of points was awarded to the class of '14, and then Cait was finally given leave to go enjoy supper with her friends.

As soon as she sat back down, Great Hall broke out in chatter all over again, and Cait wished she were back among the Belfry-Bat signers and their Thoughtwrite tablets. She was dying to find out how the SWI competition turned out, but the babble of voices around her was too loud, and she didn't have the trumpetvine on her at the moment. After all, what would have been the point of bringing _that_ to a signing school? At any rate, there was no chance to talk about SWI – a crowd of curious students now surrounded her table, all asking her … what? Bits of questions surfaced through the swirling sound while Penny tried to help out by interpreting what people said into her minimal Sign. Through it all, Meg scowled and tipped her chair back, trying to balance it on one leg.

Too much chatter, too much noise! _What good is getting to go to Gallaudet for a weekend if I have to be stuck trying to understand all this noise back home? Not fair!_ Cait fumed.

Her foot hit the floor with a loud thud. Meg's chair fell to the floor with a bang and Penny's hands stopped in mid-sign; the surrounding chatter ceased abruptly. Cait looked at the surprised faces around her, then pointed at random.

"You first. One at a time!"

The redhaired girl from Spellwork class blinked at the end of Cait's finger. She paused only for a moment before asking, "Did they make you night-fly all the way to DC?"

Other questions soon followed. Whenever people forgot and began talking all at once, Cait would shake her head with her hands over her ears, and the other voices would shut up.

All the same, it was sweet relief to finally reach the quiet of her own dorm room, where she could ask Penny how the SWI competition had gone. Penny beamed and pulled a silver trophy down from the top shelf of her desk. "Transformations, second place!" she bragged. "And we didn't even have to worry about any dirty tricks from the Magentas, since Elsbeth was the only one to even qualify, and she'd never cheat. You should have seen Claire stomping around when the finalists were announced; she's earned herself an essay on the seven levels of Transformation for muttering something about smoke and mirrors. And Amanda nearly got in, but got a lecture about "maybe next year, if she learns to not depend on readymades so much."

"Like Daydark," guessed Cait. Penny nodded.

Cait continued, "How come the contest was just for Spellwork, anyway? Meg didn't look too happy tonight. She'd have won a Mindcasting contest if they had one."

Penny shrugged. "Dunno. At least there's broomsprints at Beltane, and that's not even a month away. She'll get to show off then."

"_Night_-time broomsprints," reminded Cait. "Wish I didn't have to sit out. Meg can practically fly in her sleep – she'll win for sure."

During the next day's broomsprint practice, Meg was in an evil mood. "I'll be a Hedgie for life with some boring job that pays nada, I just know it," she growled as she furiously zoomed in circles over Partridge Hall as if she were on her own small racetrack. "And I'll never get out from under Genius Big-Sister's shadow. It's only because of her I can do anything halfway decent in class. And you and Penny'll go on become book-writing bigheads."

Cait hovered in the center of Meg's circle as she took a break from keeping up with her friend's furious rate of speed. "Come on, you can Mindcast circles around Penny and me without half trying. Auclair doesn't give _us_ the grades you get!"

Meg snorted. "Only because of my snoopy sibs. When you're at the mercy of a houseful of people all older than you, it's a survival skill."

Cait flew down to the rooftop and continued to watch Meg's dizzying circles as she sat next to the cote of cooing and chirping message birds. _Why won't Meg believe her?_ This conversation was _old_; she and Penny had been spending all semester – no, all year -- trying to convince Meg that she really had talent.

Conversation ceased as Meg continued her dizzying laps. Then Penny emerged onto the rooftop.

"Hey Penny, tell Meg she's good at Mindcasting," Cait said. "And it's not just because of her sibs."

Penny paused, eyed Meg, and sat, nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's the only homework you don't curse. Quick. What's my mood?"

Meg slowed her overhead circuits, closed her eyes briefly, and answered, "Hungry. And wicked happy about that trophy of yours. Still. Don't go snob on us!"

Penny only looked more smug as Meg continued her overhead circuits. "See? I can never do a reading that fast, let alone while flying. Takes even longer when I'm grumpy!"

Meg made a face. "Logic. It's suppertime, people are hungry. And you _are _proud of that prize."

"Yeah, and you almost never actually study your Mindcasting, and you still do fine in class while Cait and I are stuck in our books!" retorted Penny.

"All you need's a pack of older sibs," countered Meg. "Cait's turn," and she closed her eyes briefly, opening them wide in incredulous surprise. "Green tulle, billowing yards of it. Did some fashion designer zombify you?"

Cait mimed a punch up in Meg's direction. "Well, we've got to wear _something_ to that Beltane dance! Dance in formal heavy silk robes? I don't think so, uh uh. And if I wear all green, and put in some gold jewelry, the trumpetvine will look like part of the design." And Cait was again lost in her Beltane reverie.

"Stolen by a dress designer, I tell you," muttered Meg as she came in for a landing. "Well it's suppertime, let's go!" Meg pulled Cait up from her seat, and they all headed off to Great Hall.

During the next night-flying class, a rolled-up rug lay among the brooms, and Greengage proudly ushered Cait over to it. "Caitlin, I have a night-flying idea for you. A Persian alumna has graciously loaned this carpet to SWI in case of homesick middle-eastern students, but she's given you the green light to use it!" Greengage unrolled the colorful small carpet with a flourish. With a shock, Cait realized that it was the rug from Lumen's office. "The Beltane races are still for brooms only, but this will at least give you a fighting chance at night-flying."

Sitting on the rug as Greengage watched, Cait told it "Shamaya" – and promptly fell off as the fabric buckled and bobbed beneath her.

_Maybe lying down would work?_ Cait lay on the carpet belly-down, gripped the edge with her hands, and told it, "Shamaya." This time, as it rose up in the air, it felt a little like the hammocks in Ole Jim. Pushing down on the edge a little, the rug flew forward – yup, it worked the same way brooms did. The rug's edges flew up on either side of her as she sped along, making it feel even more like a hammock. This worked. This worked great! Cait leaned into a turn as she approached the library and headed back to land near Greengage.

"It works! I like this!" she proclaimed, jumping immediately to her feet.

"Good!" answered Greengage, who beamed at her. "Practice your figure-eights over there, and join the rest of the class at next session. Everyone else, relay sprints, teams A and B! Let's go!"

Zoomorphia class two weeks later was almost as much fun as that carpet night-flight. Right in the middle of one of Graycliff's lectures, a small blur whizzed in through the window and made directly for a mysterious and unexplained shelf tucked in among the ceiling's wide oak beams. Another blur quickly followed it.

"They're back!" proclaimed the teacher, as she tilted the wide brim of her hat away from her eyes to peer at the shelf. "Early, even. Class, this is our own resident pair of barn swallows; they've been returning to this same nest for six seasons now, and these little birds are exceptionally mellow about allowing a whole pack of humans to watch them go about their nesting business. Exceptional, exceptional!" Graycliff joyously motioned them all to watch the birds as they hopped about, examining the shelf, then zoomed out the window, returning with muddy twigs and stalks of grass. The class watched in fascination as the swallows began their nest-building.

To Cait's left, Meg fidgeted in her seat. When Cait signed at her, "Wrong – what?" Meg didn't answer, but simply burst out of the room the next time all eyes were on the swallows' growing nest, muttering something about "upset bird."

Cait leaned to her right, poked Penny and raised her eyebrows; "No idea," Penny signed back.

As soon as the class ended, Cait and Penny bolted out of the classroom, leaving Graycliff swinging her glasses by the temples in puzzlement. Once in the hallway, they paused – which way did Meg go?

"She did say something about a bird," said Cait.

"Must be outside then," said Penny. "There's a bunch of bigger trees on the other side of the classroom building. You go right and I'll go left."

Cait saw the ring of light around the tree first, glowing about ten feet up. A faint and agitated whistle could be heard from the tree's branches; Meg stood beneath the ring, face set in a defiant frown, right hand holding her wand out before her.

Amanda stood facing her, shouting furiously, "Well, if a golden creeper decides to nest right outside our classrooms when they never even usually show up in Massachusetts at all, why shouldn't I get some extra points for our class, and get myself an A for bringing in a rare nest?"

Cait approached the tree and looked up. "Golden" was right; the stripes of the bird's gold-on-white plumage glittered in the dappled sunlight which filtered through the newly-budded foliage. The nest itself sparkled – some of the bird's feathers had been woven in among the twigs and moss tucked into the stub of a broken-off branch.

Amanda's attention shifted as Cait came into view. "No conferring with your friend over there! This is between us two! And I don't want to hear her casting any spells, either." Cait put up her hands and backed up to where she had been before, carefully staying within Meg's line of sight, but outside Amanda's.

Meg now fired back, "Not until she's done with the nest! Don't you want those baby birds to grow up? Don't you even care that that bird is screaming, she's so scared and mad at you? Or can't you even Mindcast? Even a Muggle can see how upset she is. And there's no way a _real_ Mindcaster can ignore panic like that." Meg extended her wand more and braced herself.

"Well it's just a bird, not even a person, they don't even have minds big enough to Mindcast," sniffed Amanda. "And this class isn't about Mindcasting, it's about observation, and observation is what I was doing when you got in the way –"

As the shouting continued, Cait signed at Meg, "The nest – I can hide it. Shall I?"

Meg nodded her left fist in a surreptitious "yes" as she shouted back at Amanda. Cait pulled out her wand and worked an illusion of a leafy new branch in exactly the spot to make the nest invisible from the ground. As the chartreuse haze descended over the nest, the bird's anxious whistles slowed down and grew quieter.

Amanda appeared to have shouted herself out; she and Meg were now locked in a staredown. A tap at Cait's elbow; Penny was now there and had seen Cait work her illusion. She signed "congratulations" to Cait as she also kept out of Amanda's line of sight.

Elsbeth ran around the corner of the building, panting with the exertion. "There you are, Amanda! Is the nest ready already? Isn't it too soon?" She peered up at the tree in puzzlement.

"This pauper's interfering with my grade," Amanda stormed.

The bird whistled from the branches. "You're going to take the nest _now_?" gasped Elsbeth. "But the bird's still there! You can't do that to a nesting bird, poor thing!"

"Hey, whose side are you on?" retorted Amanda.

"Yeah, listen to your friend, Amanda." fired Meg.

A tall presence now stood behind them all. "Do we have a situation here, girls?" came Graycliff's voice as she strode to the tree and took in the ring-spell, the dueling girls, and the concealed, whistling bird. Her glasses dangled from her fingers, swinging back and forth like a pendulum as she surveyed them all.

"They say it's a golden creeper!" said Cait softly. "That's not in our books." She lifted the illusionary branch just enough for the teacher to see the bird and her nest; Graycliff nodded as she put on her glasses and peered at the tree, then nodded at Cait to put the illusion back into place.

"And I'm the one who found it," proclaimed Amanda, chin proudly lifted.

"And you were going to steal her nest!" hissed Meg.

At the raising of Graycliff's hands, they all stopped.

"Twenty points given for spotting this rare bird," announced Graycliff solemnly. She nodded at Amanda, who smirked. "And thirty points subtracted for endangering the same. You have clearly not been attending to the parts of my classes which have stressed observation _only_. Never, _never_, disturb any animal on its own turf unless it happens to be in imminent danger. Ever." Greycliff's eyes flashed with subdued fury as Amanda stalked off, throwing off Elsbeth's anxious attempts to calm her.

Greycliff now addressed Meg. "Fifty points to Meg Ainslee for protecting – while at the same time not disrupting – this little mother bird. Nicely-done Ring-Guard spell. I was not aware of it being taught to firstyears, however." The glasses dangled from Graycliff's hand once more as she awaited Meg's reply.

"Big brother always got into my stuff, so I learned to copy how my big sister kept him out of her things," Meg said.

Greycliff nodded. "And the concealment spell?"

Cait raised her hand.

"Well done. Another 10 points." Greycliff regarded the tree. "I recommend that the concealment spell remain. Please dissolve the Ring-Guard spell; it has done its work. I believe that Thursday will be an excellent time to lecture the whole class on the observation of rare and fragile species. And that learning to Mindcast small animals, as well as people, is a skill very worth developing. Not everyone can do that, you know." Graycliff nodded in Meg's direction. "Excellent skill to have. Good night."

Graycliff strode off towards the courtyard leaving Cait and Penny jubilant, and Meg pensive.

"Meg, do you believe us now? Graycliff says not everyone can do what you just did! And you saved a bunch of little rare birds besides! Champ, champ champ! You are the best Mindcaster!" Cait highfived her as Penny threw an arm around Meg's shoulders.

"We're worrying the bird, let's move," was all Meg said; she looked stunned. "Did Graycliff really mean that? Not everyone can Mindcast animals?"

"Well I can Mindcast Nini sometimes, but only when I really concentrate," said Cait. "Not birds and mice though."

"Don't look at me, I can't even mindcast my own Nicky," added Penny.

"Victory lap around the courtyard!" announced Cait, as she Boh-ee'd three brooms from the Partridge-Hall roof, adding a glamour of golden streamers to Meg's broom.

Over the next several weeks, the highlight of every morning for the trio of friends was a stop by the golden creeper's nest to check up on the bird family, and to renew the concealment spell. Meg would send out a gentle Mindcast as they approached to let the bird know they were there, Cait would lift the illusion a bit, and they would admire the shining bird for a few moments.

Pink-budded apple trees soon brightened the courtyard and chipmunks ran about campus with announcements for the Beltane celebrations. Students were given formal permission to have their dress robes fully Transformed for the Beltane dance, complete with three-hour binding spell, so that the wearer would not have to constantly maintain her chosen glamour. Scholarship girls cheered and began showing off their best illusions; those who'd already bought expensive dresses glowered, and Claire looked gloomy. _Had she been hoping to sell fancy fabric to people?_ Cait wondered.

There would be sailboat races at BWIS before the dance, and then broomraces and fireworks afterward. Instead of joining their usual after-supper broomsprints, Cait now sat with a glowing spidersilk timer as Meg zoomed overhead. Every night, another second or two was shaved off her sprint times.

"You're gonna be best racer _and_ best Mindcaster!" crowed Cait as Meg did a "that's nothing" hand-flap in the air.

On Beltane, pink and white apple blossoms and the chartreuse haze of tiny leaves sprouted from the rafters of Great Hall, as the season's first fireflies flashed and flickered among the branches. Silver streamers threaded through the blossoms and leaves, reflecting the bright hues of the fancy robes and gowns below as students, their families, faculty, and staff trickled into the room. Random notes and snatches of tunes floated down as musicians tuned up in the rafters; a cluster of girls stood just outside the door, putting final touches on their glamours before the three-hour Transformation spell was put on. Cait happily surveyed her green and gold creation, then stepped up to the doorway where Corwin stood, wand at the ready, eyes twinkling.

"Excellent illusion-work as always, Cait! I'm proud to have you in my class. And congratulations on hiding that rare bird, by the way. Enjoy the ball." As the binding spell was cast, the weight of Cait's heavy silk robes disappeared from her shoulders, replaced by the gentle brush of chiffon.

Before she could get too caught up in admiring the Transformed gown, Penny grabbed her hand and pulled her into the center of Great Hall, where Meg already stood. The dancing had begun; a circle of firstyears spun about as the musicians played a giddy and irresistible tune. Meg frowned as she surveyed the dancers. "Boys?" she signed, with a question on her face. Cait grimaced as she answered with a thumb-flick towards the enormous crystal punch-bowl of fizzy cider near the left-hand fireplace. There, a giggling, snorting handful of BWIS students with their cups of cider broke out into a belching contest whenever faculty or parents weren't nearby.

Chatter flew about the increasingly noisy room. As people leaned towards each other and shouted "what?" Cait felt all bubbly inside – for once, _she_ wasn't the one yelling "what"! Instead, she tossed comments in ASL back and forth with Penny and Meg, then immersed herself in the dancing. Getting to do something fun like dancing made it so much easier to ignore those incomprehensible conversations, and also made it easier to ignore the fact that they couldn't gab very much in Sign yet. Thankfully, parents kept to themselves near the other fireplace where there was not only another crystal punch bowl, this one full of double-fizz cider, but also a cask of wine, and a crowd of hovering glasses waiting to be filled. Only once did Cait's dad and Meg's big brother appear to claim one dance apiece from "their" girls, as the music shifted from circle dance to couples' dance and back to circle dance again.

While Cait's misty-eyed dad retreated at the end of that dance. Meg elbowed Cait and signed, fists together at heart, "Sweetheart!" Across the dance floor, a beaming Andrea now approached them. As Cait blushed, Andrea spoke into the trumpetvine, "You might like to know that I've brought a West-Coast cousin tonight. Guess which one!" Then she took off, skipping, to join the circle dance, blowing Cait a kiss as she went.

West-Coast cousin – did she mean that selkie boy who guided them to the Eagles? That very cute one? As Cait's blush deepened, Neil was now standing before her, flashing his heart-melting grin, and asking for a dance – not with spoken words, but with a raised eyebrow and extended hand. Soon, the rest of their class and some of the other below-Hedgies also wanted to dance with the handsome selkie as well. A few succeeded but Neil kept most of the dances reserved for Meg, Cait, and Penny.

Not even the following broomraces – where Meg did indeed, garner a prize – nor the fireworks, could top that dance.

Well, maybe one thing could. The following Sunday, as Cait sat at the Farsight mirror for her usual Belfry-Bat tutorial, Jessica smiled at her and signed, "Come again to Gallaudet – you want? Spring Firefly Games – Belfry Bats – May 10! Races with brooms, boats, carpets, whatever!"

Excitement filled Cait. _How'd they know she'd been missing Gallaudet already?_ she wondered. "Firefly?" Cait queried, copying the fingerspelled word.

"We're Bats, remember? We do what? Fly at night!" was Jessica's answer.

Cait hesitated; flying carpet or no flying carpet, she was out of sprinting practice, and said so.

Jessica wrinked her nose and made a shooing motion. "Stress – none. You coming? Bring friends!"

At the hopeful smile Jessica now showed, Cait could only nod her fist "yes."

After supper, a bat fluttered at her window carrying the official invitation to the event, and permission to leave campus via Portal was soon granted to Cait, Meg, and Penny. Showing them the campus was every bit as fun as Cait had hoped. As soon as they reached the Portal, Cait unrolled her carpet and took off flying, making Penny and Meg scramble aboard their brooms as she took them on her own version of the Belfry Bats' aerial tour of Gallaudet University.

They then swooped in over the football field, which was covered in glowglobes and fireflies. As soon as Cait landed, hugs and backslaps surrounded her: from Jessica, from Eagles, from the beginning signer she'd met at the Belfry-competition banquet. Everybody was talking at the same time in Sign – and it was wonderful! It was so much fun to let everybody talk at once – she could still understand them. Cait beamed as she greeted everyone and asked them about their own schools, and if they had horrible teachers who talked to blackboards, and were there trumpetvines, and did they have great teachers like Ms. Corwin -- _oops, better introduce my SWI friends!_ _How could I forget them??_ Cait kicked herself, then introduced Meg and Penny to the crowd before immersing once more in the conversation.

And then there were the games! Unlike the April competition, these games were pure silliness. Cait's balance problems even added to the fun -- a corkscrew-spin division was added to one of the races, thanks to a maneuver inadvertently invented when Cait's rug flipped over on a sharp corner and she hung onto it anyway. All told, she more than held her own among all the other racers in and on their various craft.

"Just wait until next year when you're really in practice!" enthused Meg as they walked up the hill to the parking-lot portal Cait had used in April.

"Who _was_ that girl saying hello to everyone right and left back there?" wondered Penny. "I don't even know my own roommate when she's in a crowd of signers. Not that I exactly understand the signing," she moped.

Guilt pricked at Cait – they were being such good sports. And she'd actually forgotten her own best friends in the thick of all the signing! "Next year I'll be a pro night-time carpet-rider, and we'll all be pro signers!" proclaimed Cait. Then they were at the staircase, and on their way back to SWI.

Finals were upon them before anyone was quite ready, and the weather teased them with bright sunshine as they all sat studying. Lilacs were in full bloom, and their scent wafted into classrooms and dorms whenever a window was opened. Not too far, however – winds were strong and the air cool; it looked like summer outside, but did not yet feel like it.

Cait, Penny, and Meg continued to visit "their" bird's nest, thrilling at the first sight of pointed little beaks showing at the edge of the nest, then at the sight of wobbly, fuzzy hatchlings trying out their wings.

As Cait sat cursing her Alchemy terminology the afternoon before those finals, and Penny struggled with Spellwork, Meg came racing into their dorm room. "You have to come see our birds! Now! I think they're really ready to fly!"

Dropping their books, Cait and Penny followed Meg out of the dorm and behind the library. Cait didn't even need to lift her concealment spell – there, on a nearby branch, neatly lined up, sat five gold-and-white feathered fledglings, looking almost like the mother bird hovering nearby.

"Does Graycliff know?" asked Cait, barely able to take her eyes off the small birds.

Meg nodded. "Hope so – I sent a Mindcast and hope it works."

Sure enough, Graycliff soon ran up and stood next to them, admiring the little birds. "Don't they look like real birds now? This has been an exceptional experience, girls, and I hope you know how fortunate you are. Don't expect something like this every spring, you know."

Then, as they watched, one fledgling after the other stretched its wings and flew to a higher branch where the mother bird now sat, until all five were on the new branch. Then, as if they were of one mind, all six birds lifted up and took off, glittering gold flecks vanishing into the cloudless blue sky.

"They were waiting for us!" marveled Meg.

"That can well be. They know who rescued them." Graycliff said. "I know you will all do magnificently on your exams," and she strode off with a smile.

Not one of them betrayed any smugness the next day when Amanda marched proudly into the exam room, carrying the glittering nest before her in both hands.

All too soon it was May 24th, and the trio of friends found themselves aboard the Schoodic on their way back to Boston, flying along on a wind that needed no weatherworking help. They all stood at the deck rail, watching the Salem harbor recede behind Marblehead.

Cait fought the urge to sulk. Three whole months with nobody to sign to. Three whole months of Hiding in Plain Sight. No, not _quite_ three months -- "I can't wait for July to be here," mused Cait as Nini yapped at unattainable seagulls overhead. "So great that we're both allowed to go visit your uncle's campsite!"

"Yeah, we'll do all the flying we want out there!" gushed Meg. "Two whole weeks of flying, swimming, hiking, daydreaming about selkies; do you think there's any freshwater kind of selkie-like people? It's going to be so much fun. I can't wait, either!"

"Then it's back to Plain Sight again," added Cait with a giant sigh.

"Hey, don't underestimate what can be done on the sly!" reminded Penny.

"Are you seriously gonna practice hexing your brother?" worried Meg. "I mean, he sounds like a pain, but you can't just run around hexing!"

"Course not! Not unless he starts messing with Nicky!" answered Penny.

"And don't forget that the Finches have a game in August – they've got a new keeper, and they're playing better than ever, and Brindisi's as good – and as cute – as he's ever been!" Meg paused, out of breath.

"And the Eagles play two weeks later," added Cait. _That's right, she would get to be around a signing crowd at least once!_ "And they're each gonna do a demo at each others' games. And you should see the design for the new Belfry-Bat flyer they'll be passing out at both games. They flap around all crazy, the way real bats do!" And for the next ten minutes, the girls were stumbling around giggling, trying to out-do each others' bat-flight imitations.

As they caught their breath, Penny sighed. "If we could only swap families! I know I'm gonna be stuck in the shop helping out. It would be so much fun following Louise around in her boats instead!"

"Nothing stopping you from sending her a crow," answered Meg. "Send me a crow too, whenever you're going nuts."

"How about sleepover weekends?" suggested Cait. "I bet we could do that, too."

As they watched gulls swoop over the waves, a new feeling stole over Cait's consciousness. This was the first time ever that she was looking _forward_ to being back in school! Before she was home, even. She was absolutely, positively going to complete all seven years of this school. Not to mention getting to as many Belfry-Bat events as she possibly could.

Cait looked up and elbowed Meg. "Soooo – you _are_ going to do all seven years of SWI, right?"

Meg blinked. "Hey, what sort of thing is that to ask when I'm in the middle of a Brindisi daydream?"

Penny, on Meg's other side, perked up; both girls put chins on hands in perfect unison and stared at Meg. "Welllll?" they chorused.

Meg paused, looking at the two of them.

"I don't think Ms. Auclair's going to allow you to stop at Hedge," Cait added.

"It was pretty amazing to get a decent finals grade," admitted Meg. "Lucky, I guess."

"After that bird incident?" said Penny. "Are you kidding? Our whole class knows you're the best Mindcaster now, Ms. Graycliff's made sure of that!"

Meg hesitated before speaking. "I will if you will!"

"Yay! Woot! Woot!" broke out both Penny and Cait.

"We need to toast to that! Belowdeck!" announced Penny as she gathered her things. Grabbing Nini's carrier, Cait linked arms with her friends, and all three trooped below.

As the three girls enjoyed their fizzy ciders, Cait toyed with a brilliant white seagull feather that Nini had somehow gotten into – and batted out of – her carrier. Waving for Meg and Penny's attention in the noisy room, Cait now stuck the feather in her hatband and signed, "Year number one – finished! Six more – three-of-us – together!"

In a burst of spontaneity, their three right fists met and jointly formed the sign, "Together!"

And they raised their bottles of cider once more.


End file.
